


The Game

by Vlad_the_Impala



Series: About bending, cracking and breaking [1]
Category: The Game (TV), Ylvis
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vlad_the_Impala/pseuds/Vlad_the_Impala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the next show in a row, Vegard feels friendly-angry at Bård for constantly playing pranks on him. He's just about to start plotting a revenge master prank when on his table he finds a business card he doesn't remember. 'CRS', it says, 'Consumers' Recreation Service'. Wondering, he decides to call the company and they are ready to give him something he thinks would be a genial prank. However, things don't turn out quite as expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For the game is deadly habit for the players,  
> Aren't you glad it's a spectator sport?  
> \- The Monkees - War Games

_What a shit…_

                Vegard wet his own jet-black curls and glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He smiled at it wearily and it smiled back without a jot more enthusiasm. Vegard scoffed. He was tired.

                _What a dick… don’t they teach it at school that you gotta respect your elders?! Well, anyway Bård doesn’t seem to give a shit. Never did._

Vegard washed his face over a few times, splashing the warm water all over himself. Nothing mattered now. They had another couple of days off. The show was over for tonight, thankfully.

                _Funny, the more I look up to that bastard the more he pranks me. He seems to always know. Oh, whatever. He never loved me anyway. Not that I care… looking up isn’t loving yet, or is it?_

He strutted out of the bathroom, but his shoulders dropped on the way and he stooped comfortably. He needed rest desperately. He didn’t even understand why he suddenly got so sensitive, maybe out of tiredness, but now he was almost angry at Bård constantly pranking him and getting away himself.

                _Need to get a revenge,_  - he thought, entering their room to grab a couple things he had left on the table. It was easy to say, but coming up with a master prank was easier for the little one, Vegard could tell.

                _Little evil shit. Little evil mastermind. Seething evil out of his angelic blue eyes. Don't you worry, brother knows be-etter…_

He sniffed angrily, crumpling the useless papers and throwing them to the trashcan. He missed and had to go and pick all up. That night, worn out and frustrated after having too much show, he was ready to blame Bård for his every hangup.

                _He’s probably laughing now, -_ he thought, leaning down to pick up the papers. – _Laughing with Calle. Let him celebrate… -_ He headed back to the table. – _Well, no worries. In just a little time, hopefully, I’ll be able to rest a while. Without this ankle biter. Hopefully. Younger brothers are such a pain in the ass… you love them, you care about them, you give them kicks under the table so that they behave and people aren’t ashamed of them. And what do you get in return? Nothing but… the heck is this?_

He frowned. On a table in front of him there was a business card. Just another business card, nothing special, one would think, but for some reason it had three exclamation marks in pen written over it. And Vegard clearly didn’t remember this one. Well, like he himself ever remembered any…

                But this one for some reason was particularly curious. ‘CRS’ the big letters under the logo read. And under them the decryption: ‘Consumers’ Recreation Service’. Recreation? When ever?

                Vegard frowned again, examining the card. The name of the organization and the phone number. Nothing more but three big exclamation marks. _Important._ What could be so important in this one?

                Maybe he had forgotten about it? Maybe he had had some urgent business to do with this card and just forgot? Well, with their schedules everything was possible… Vegard shrugged.

                _A call wouldn’t hurt. Maybe I still have that urgent business… or maybe it’s Bård’s, which would be even better. I could maybe come up with a prank… why not?_

He was already dialling the number.

* * *

* * *

                Bård was so relieved he almost started singing some old song to himself. He was exhausted but another successful prank made him childishly happy. Pranks always refreshed him. It was good to ground the big brother. Bård knew he would always be forgiven and kept on having fun. After all, they were adult people, and the big brother could just relax once in a while and stop being the kind one, the polite one, stop being more musical and prettier. Bård would never tell anybody, but he was jealous of Vegard’s curls.

                _What a bastard!_

Beside the room he was heading for he heard Vegard’s voice. He was taking alone – probably on the phone. The door was half-opened and Bård could hear every word.

‘Yes, I’m Vegard Ylvisåker. I just found your business card, and I wonder if we’ve had any business before… it’s marked as urgent. Could you help?’

                A little pause. Bård raised his eyebrows.

                _What in the whole wide world is he plotting?!_

He came up to the door and leaned onto the wall casually, pulling out his phone and pretending to check his messages. In fact his ears were pricked up.

‘Oh really? Oh, then I’m awfully sorry…’

                There was another pause. Perhaps on the other side they didn’t want to let Vegard go. When he spoke again, he sounded a little worried.

‘What… what kind of recreation, excuse me?’

                Bård tilted his head. Oh yes, this definitely sounded interesting.

‘Bård!’

                This was Calle. He waved his hand at Bård and invited him with a gesture. Bård cast a frustrated glance at the door, nodded and jogged towards Calle. But the conversation went on without him and he didn’t see Vegard’s smile shine again as he said as politely as he could:

                ‘Me? Oh no, I’m afraid I value the little things enough. But… you know, I think I have a person around that might want to re-evaluate some.’ A little pause followed, then Vegard, smiling widely, stated: ‘Okay, tomorrow then. This would do. I’ll meet you… yes, you too, have a nice day’, and put down the phone.


	2. Chapter 1

                The melody called for Bård and he anxiously grabbed the phone the very moment it started. He’d been fidgeting with his phone for a good couple of hours now, dialing one and the same number over and over and glancing at the screen waiting for a call back. But he deigned to call only now. _Finally._ The name on the screen said: ‘Vegard’ and the brother’s cheeky face smiled at Bård. Not surprisingly, the first thought that crossed his mind was that when the call was over he would rename his number to ‘That Bastard You Know’. But he didn’t wait another second to answer.

                ‘Fucking hello!’

                ‘Bård? Oh hey!’ Vegard’s voice was careless and easy. ‘Angry there? Fifteen missed calls, I can tell!’

                Bård almost choked.

                ‘You… you shit, mind to explain?! Where the fuck have you been the entire morning?! No wonder I’m angry – I’ll tell you what – I’m fucking MAD! Wouldn’t you be, if your brother disappeared the fuck in the morning, nobody had seen him and he didn’t answer the phone? I’ll tell you what, you bugger, you would be in a hospital with a heart attack by now! Could have at least locked your fucking room! You – I don’t even know how to call you – you…’

                Vegard was silent on the other side, letting Bård blow off the steam. Only when Bård finally ran out of cuss words and breath together with them and just stopped halfsentence, red and panting, he heard his brother’s soothing voice:

                ‘Okay, man. You know what, I’m sorry. Really. Forgive me. I must have sent you a message. But when I explain you will understand me, I was too excited. Let’s meet somewhere right now, hm? Grab a bite to eat, and I’ll tell you everything in the tiniest detail. I promise it’ll be worth it,’ and, hearing only silence instead of a reply, he used the sure trick: ‘Oh come on, mummy! After all, I’m talking to you right now, not dead, rather safe, as one could be, and even feeling good. C’mon, come to our favourite café – you remember, that one on the corner, forgot its name… I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Whichever you choose. C’mon, I’ll make up for all the nerves.’

                Still strained, Bård was looking for the tiniest change in his intonations, but caught none. Vegard was as usual – homely, nice and easy. Bård licked his lips.

                ‘I’ll make you pay,’ he grumbled, but easier.

                ‘This is better,’ Vegard chuckled in response. ‘Calm down already, it’s okay. I’m really sorry. I love you.’

                This was his winning trick. Bård relaxed involuntarily.

                ‘’Kay,’ he said, relieved. ‘See you then, you bastard. Hate you. In half an hour in our café.’

                And he put down the phone and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his face with his hands. After all, the big brother’s calm voice brought in a great deal of relief.

                Merciless Vegard made him worry a lot. When Bård, concerned about the lack of his brother anywhere in sight (plus no one had seen him), went to check on him and found his unlocked room a perfect mess sans Vegard himself, the first thing he had was a mini heart attack. Thankfully he was never too sensitive and quickly collected himself and ran to look for his brother. He was asking around and calling Vegard, but received no answer and everyone just shrugged. Nobody actually seemed surprised at Bård running around asking about Vegard until he started asking everyone for the third time around. This time everyone got a little panicked. Calle suggested going to look for him in the town, and if he didn’t find anything anywhere, he’d call the police. Maybe it was a bad joke, he insisted. He was probably just trying to calm Bård down, rather unsuccessfully. And so he went off with a couple of other guys and Bård stayed to bite his lips and dial the same number over and over again, equally angry and scared.

                Calle’s call pulled him out of the relieved trance. Bård picked up the phone.

                ‘Whatever?’

                ‘You can dance, I found the bastard,’ Calle informed. ‘Just met him casually in the street, he refuses to tell me anything, because it’s between _you two_ and _nothing special_. Had to give him a good kick, though’.

                Bård smirked.

                ‘Could have not bothered. The bastard called me himself five minutes ago. Well, at least we have found him. We’ll beat him later.’

                ‘You okay?’ Calle sounded concerned.

                ‘Yes, pretty much,’ Bård reassured. ‘I’m telling you, at least he appeared and didn’t die. I just can’t wait for a revenge. Will you help me invent something?’

                Calle snorted.

                ‘F’sure! This is my personal problem now, too. I’ve just spent a couple of hours walking around everywhere, and man, it’s freezing here and now I’m tired as fuck.’

                ‘Go have some hot coffee now,’ Bård suggested. ‘We still have a plenty of time. Relax, okay? Thank you a lot, man.’

                ‘Oh yeah,’ Calle dropped. ‘I’ll see you later. Have fun there.’

                ‘See you’.

***

                Bård was running fifteen minutes late, but he did in on purpose. He was still angry at Vegard and he wanted to make him wait at least a little. It was a poor revenge, but better than nothing for now. When he entered the cafe, however, he immediately saw Vegard not a bit bored. He was doing something on his phone, looking up every now and then and in front of him on the table there stood the coziest teapot and two cups. He smiled at the little brother as soon as their looks met and invited him with a gesture. Bård came to the table, threw off the warm coat and plopped onto the chair.

                ‘Hey,’ Vegard greeted before Bård could open his mouth. He stood up and poured him some tea. ‘I didn’t buy the sandwich or anything yet, I didn’t know what you want today. Would you mind telling me?’

                Bård just pulled a face.

                ‘Buy me something sweet. Whatever you choose. I just want something sweet, that’s all.’

                Vegard saluted him:

                ‘Yes, sir!’

                Bård watched his back as his big brother went off to the counter and ordered something. He had mixed feelings, but he couldn’t really be mad any more. He even started getting excited about the prank he and Calle would invent to make a revenge on Vegard. What’s more, he was really eager to know what the big brother had to say that would be ‘between them two’. It couldn’t be anything bad, Vegard looked too easy and joyful, so this must have been something pleasant. Bård used all the deduction skills and brotherly same-wavelength-analysis he had, but he could only say that it had to be something good; however, he couldn’t exclude a revenge trick as well. Vegard’s tricks he could always withdraw, but the possibility was there.

                He remembered almost with vexation that he didn’t rename Vegard’s contact in his phone and smirked to himself. ‘That Bastard’ was already heading for the table with a round tray. He brought Bård a piece of cake – his favourite one.

                _This shit is sucking up to me, ­-_ Bård thought not without pleasure. He accepted the cake and took a sip of tea. It was nice, he couldn’t deny. Vegard sat down across the table from him and looked at him with a little smile.

                ‘Enjoy.’

                ‘Mhm,’ Bård replied, chewing. ‘Not bad, this. What did you have to tell me?’

                ‘Still angry?’ Vegard smiled wider.

                ‘You bet,’ Bård grumbled good-naturedly.

                ‘Okay then. If you don’t forgive me before you finish your cake, I’ll buy you a second helping. Deal?’

                ‘What are you – a fifth-grader?’

                Vegard smiled adorably.

                ‘At times.’

                ‘Okay, deal,’ – Bård licked his lips. ‘Go on, tell me.’

                ‘Well,’ Vegard took a sip of tea, ‘the thing is, I have a little surprise gift for you now. If you don’t mind not going immediately home and spending another week with me in a little town full of silence and calm… the only thing is, I swear, we will have a plenty of fun.’

                Bård squinted at him.

                ‘You sound like an Oriflame consultant,’ he remarked suspiciously. ‘What are you plotting?’

                Vegard raised his eyebrows and shrugged innocently. This was a bad sign.

                ‘Nothing. Just a gift for you. Then again, I pay. I only went off this morning to sort out the details and it took me a little bit too long.’

                Bård swallowed the piece of cake he’d been chewing.

                ‘Why?’

                ‘Why what?’

                ‘Why would you all of a sudden bother with a surprise gift for me? The only explanation I see is that you are planning something evil. Aren’t you?’

                Vegard smiled at him again, taking his cup in his both hands. This way he was even more homely and he knew it. A coal-black curl fell onto his forehead, but he didn’t bother throwing it back.

                ‘Well, if I tell you everything at once, it won’t be a surprise, right?’

                ‘So you admit to plotting a prank?’

                ‘Do I look like an idiot?’

                Bård frowned. Now he didn’t quite understand his brother, and he could usually read him pretty easily. This now was frustrating. He took another sip of tea.

                ‘Now you seem to be trying to make _me_ look like one,’ he said, squinting. ‘Vegard, confess now, or, I swear, I have Calle over there, he’s already angry…’

                Vegard chuckled.

                ‘Oh you! Why wouldn’t you think nicely of me once in a while?’

                ‘You never gave reasons,’ Bård muttered, but smiled to himself. ‘Okay, what’s the trip?’

                Vegard smiled widely and reached into his coat pocket.

                ‘Now this is better. Look at this!’

                He handed Bård a couple of rather crumpled leaflets. Bård examined them skeptically. All of them told about only one place: a town named Granskauen. The bright pictures showed him a stereotypical Norwegian town: a couple of tiny colourful houses, green forest washing it on three sides, and on the fourth – what a surprise – a fjord.

                ‘Exciting,’ he stated, glancing up at Vegard and raising an eyebrow. ‘Is this supposed to make me interested?’

                Vegard tilted his head to the side.

                ‘Not exactly. I just thought that we could have a rest for a couple of days and then come down to my surprise when the bags under your eyes are at least half as big. Because they’re huge, man.’

                ‘Thanks. Striving to have as big as yours.’  Bård looked down to his tea and cut off another piece of his cake with his teaspoon. Vegard raised his eyebrows a little.

                ‘I know, Bård, I understand. I wouldn’t trust this one myself. But believe me, it looks so boring only because you don’t yet know of my plan. And if I reveal it, it wouldn’t be half as exciting. Man, what about giving it a try?’

                Bård pulled a face.

                ‘Vegard…’

                Vegard put his hands onto the table right in front of Bård.

                ‘Could you just please trust me?’

                Bård squinted, examining Vegard’s face. It was innocent as usual, but Bård couldn’t read in the sparkly dark eyes of his big brother. Finally deciding, he pushed his hands away:

                ‘Deal. Just because if I don’t agree you’ll be jumping onto me for another couple of hours. I lost enough nerves for today, thank you very much. When are we going?’

                ‘Tomorrow, if you’re ready,’ Vegard smiled. ‘So deal? We go?’

                He raised his palm for a high-five. Bård smirked and tapped his hand half-heartedly.

                ‘Do I even have a choice? Well, that doesn’t really seem that bad. At home they don’t wait for me anyway…’

                ‘Hey, don’t say that!’ – Vegard pushed Bård’s fingers with his own slightly – he had casually put his hand on the table right in front of his brother’s. Bård didn’t flinch away. He just smiled a little and finished the cake and the tea.

                ‘You’re forgiven,’ he said. ‘Spare that money. Tomorrow, you say? So we need to let the folks know, right? Maybe I will do it, save you at least this trouble?’

                Vegard smiled, rising.

                ‘That would be nice. Thanks, man. Let’s go?’

                ‘Yeah, yeah.’

                Bård rose and threw on his coat as Vegard wore his own, adjusting his scarf. Bård didn’t really care for his, he just made sure it was decent and comfortable, and threw Vegard a glance.

                ‘C’mon, damsel?’

                Vegard smiled readily and left the table. They walked out and into the street together. They took a cab and went all the way back to the hotel in silence, just exchanging a few remarks and understanding smiles a couple of times as the cabbie drove down the streets. But Bård’s head was busy thinking. He had agreed merely out of curiosity, and now he was trying to figure out what Vegard was about to do and didn’t see a possible explanation.

                _He is clearly plotting something. Some prank. I don’t know, why else would this fool try so hard to get me there? No reason at all. What fun can we possibly have there? The very last fun I had in a town with a fjord was when we were filming Norges Herligste, I shit you not. And even that was only because everything seems funnier when a camera is watching you and you have to do stupid stuff. Damn. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight, no._

* * *

* * *

 

As soon as they got to the hotel, Bård immediately opened Google search. He looked for Granskauen the town, but all he found was a bunch of dictionary articles on the idiom, unrelated sites and an unfinished Wikipedia article on the town itself, which didn’t add the littlest bit to his knowledge. In his room he studied the leaflets thoroughly and was left even more frustrated. Granskauen on Google Planet was all blurry, indistinguishable and extremely ordinary.


	3. Chapter 2

                Vegard and Magnus pushed a huge bag into the boot harder and finally managed to fit it inside. Vegard shut it and wiped his forehead – more out of habit than because of the actual sweat. Calle shot him a smirk. Bård sighed.

                ‘Can we go now?’

                ‘Right now,’ Vegard smiled. ‘Just wanna say a couple goodbyes, if you don’t mind.’

Magnus gave him a bear hug. In that giant’s arms Vegard looked especially tiny.

‘When are you coming back, you?’

‘In a week or so,’ Vegard smiled up at him.

‘Not telling you to look after him, because like hell you will,’ Magnus smiled. ‘Just kindly try not to get in trouble.’

‘I promise,’ and Vegard saluted.

Calle hugged Bård and held him tight for a little while, as if not wanting to let go.

‘Return,’ he said simply, Bård could hear the chuckle he was holding back.

‘With him?’

‘With or without… as you choose. Better take him back, if you remember, we still have plans. Then you could take him back there, wherever, if you choose so.’

He let go of Bård and winked at him. Bård nodded understandingly and chuckled. Magnus, who had come up to them with Vegard, messed his hair and Bård turned to hug him too, while Calle and Vegard were left to each other.

‘Plotting something, you two?’ Vegard laughed.

‘No, not at all!’ Calle pulled an innocent face. He was terrible at innocent faces.

‘Whatever, you always look like you’re planning on conquering the world…’

They leaned in and threw arms against each other simultaneously.

‘Okay, goodbye,’ Calle dropped quickly and pushed him away. But his clear eyes were laughing and Vegard giggled in response. He turned to Bård.

‘We done now?’

‘Yeah,’ Bård glanced at Calle and Magnus as if they were his creations. ‘Let’s go?’

‘Do you wanna ride a shotgun or sleep in the backseat?’

                ‘Solidarity demands I ride a shotgun,’ Bård smiled widely.

                ‘But being a shit as you are, you’re gonna sleep in the back,’ Vegard finished for him. Calle chuckled and gave him a friendly punch. Vegard waved his hands at him, as if he was a fly. ‘Okay, okay. Whatever. Just get in already, we wasted a lot of time with my bags.’

                ‘Nobody forces you to always bring half your house with you,’ Bård threw over his shoulder as he headed for the car.

                Vegard just scoffed as he got inside. Bård got in, too, pushed his boots off his feet with his toes and lay down on the backseat, pressing his feet to the side window, giving the people outside a wonderful view of his red socks.

                ‘Besides, we don’t owe anyone anything,’ he remarked as Vegard started the engine.

                ‘We don’t, really, but I want everything to go as planned. At least today, spare me this delight. It’s you who is always late, maybe you like it. I don’t really do.’

                Bård just smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. Vegard gave Calle and Magnus a goodbye beep and they parted.

                They were going to Granskauen by car, Vegard hired one. It was another cold day, rather gray and dull, and Bård was not the littlest bit excited. What’s more, he was sleepy and frustrated. Everything was going as usual: Vegard with his huge suitcases, the weather, sarcastic Calle and big mama Magnus and family who were feeling good without him. Nothing could possibly be a hint as to the prank Vegard was planning. Not a thing.

                At least Calle had actually calmed down a bit. He agreed to beat Vegard even later and not hurry, and even wished them a safe trip a couple times before. He and Vegard hugged goodbye like old friends, Bård figured that by the time they returned Calle would have forgotten everything. Or maybe he would let it slip for a while, and then bring up for a joke or a prank. It didn’t really matter. Everything was dull and okay.

                Vegard wasn’t really in the mood for talking. He was sleepy, too, and didn’t show any sign of anticipation – usually, when he planned a prank, he would give himself out completely with chuckles. Now he was serious and concentrated, staring at the road. Bård started slowly falling asleep.

                He thought of Magnus the Big Mama, and Calle the tricky brother and all the good folks they worked with and it gave him a good little feeling. The faces were mixing and intertwining, in a moment he was rather lively and quirkily contemplating their success, although not a single thought was ever finished. Then he returned to the reality for a moment and remembered he was driving off to Granskauen, which could as well be translated as fuck-knows-where, with his much loved elder brother. In sleepy release Bård thought that Vegard was actually a nice old fella and his dear friend, and…

                And then he didn’t remember anything more.

* * *

* * *

 

                He woke up because Vegard was pushing him slightly.

                ‘Bård! Hey, wake up. We’re there.’

                Bård opened his eyes and glanced at him bleakly.

                ‘C’mon, get up. I need your help.’

                He was tired and tender. Bård knew that manner. At some point of weariness Vegard would change from annoyed, lively and sarcastic to quiet and loving. He spoke softly and acted gently, and at this point he was vulnerable. Bård knew that point, and, as a brother, however he hated Vegard at times, he wouldn’t give out this soft spot of his. He quickly rubbed his eyes and got out of the car to stretch.

                The air was cold, even colder than in the morning. Granskauen was far away from their latest show’s place and Vegard must have been driving for good nine hours. Bård felt just a bit guilty, but he quickly rubbed his eyes well and stretched himself and went to help Vegard with his huge suitcase. Vegard didn’t even have to do anything. Bård just took the bags out of his hand – his own suitcase together with Vegard’s – and dragged them towards the hotel Vegard had parked beside.

                ‘Hey! Wait!’

                Bård heard the car peep obediently behind his back as Vegard locked it, and the quick steps.

‘Hey! Hey, wait! Bård!’

He reached him and grabbed his own huge trunk. Their hands brushed together and Bård stopped just to glance at Vegard.

‘Give me that. Or at least give me something, I don’t want you down with a broken spine.’

Bård shot him a smirk.

‘’Ts okay.’

‘Bård, I’m your older brother, give me that.’ He tugged at the suitcase, but Bård wouldn’t let go.

‘Calm down. You’ve been driving a car for… how many? Ten hours? Have some rest at last.’

Vegard sniffed and didn’t let go of the suitcase.

‘If I will have to carry you in advance, I’ll definitely break my spine,’ Bård remarked. Vegard finally released the handle and just breathed expressly behind his back as they headed for the hotel together. He was quite visibly worn out. Bård decided that if his big brother didn’t go to the shower and then to bed immediately, he would undress him with these very hands, lock him up in the bathroom and then tie him to a bed with a blanket.

‘I hope you don’t mind that I booked a double room,’ Vegard dropped as they were entering.

Bård smiled. To be honest, he was even delighted at that fact. But he quickly reminded himself that Vegard was just exhausted and when he was refreshed he would be tricky again. Besides, Bård recalled, they were most probably in Granskauen only for the point of his being pranked by the big brother. Nothing to be overly joyous about, was there?

‘Whatever, you already booked it anyway,’ he threw over his shoulder as they came up to the reception desk.

* * *

* * *

                Vegard came out of the shower in his pants and a white T-shirt and just collapsed onto the bed feebly.

                ‘I give up,’ he announced hoarsely.

                Bård smiled at him from his own bed, rising on his elbow.

                ‘That’s good. Finally you give up. We can go home now.’

                Vegard just groaned. Bård chuckled, dropping back onto the bed. He was feeling good and had already planned to have a shower and go for a walk around the city to maybe find some possible entertainment. He wasn’t looking for much comfort in that hope, but a walk wouldn’t hurt anyway. What's more, Bård didn’t really think it would be long.

                ‘What are you about to do?’ Vegard glanced to him from under his arm.

                ‘Nothing special,’ Bård stretched himself. ‘I’ll now have a little shower and go look around. I bet you’ll jump off that bed as soon as I leave and make me a trap. Shitty prankster as you are, I’m not even surprised you’ve been jumping outta your skin to bring me here. But I’ll be highly disappointed if you don’t prepare something really good for me in this case.’

                Vegard gave a hopeless sigh.

                ‘You’re merciless if you expect me to do so now. I’ve been driving your sleepy ass over here just to get a bunch of offensive suspicions?’

                ‘You’re so boring when you’re this tired…’

                ‘You can as well drop me and have Bjarte. Or Calle. Or whoever.’

                ‘Wrong. I can’t.’

                ‘If you wish, I believe you’ll do. Maybe you just love me too much…’

                ‘I hate you.’

                ‘All because you’re a little bastard…’ Vegard sighed again and turned his back to Bård. ‘Whatever. Do what you want, say what you want. And I only want to sleep. All I know is that without me you won’t survive a couple of days.’

                Bård chuckled.

                ‘Well, you wish. Just sleep already, and spare me your blabbering.’

                Vegard didn’t reply. He curled up into a ball on the bed, the blanket crumpled at his feet. Bård smiled to himself and headed for the shower.

                The water jets were refreshing and Bård felt even better. He understood he had forgotten a fresh pair of underwear only when he got out of the bath he was standing in. But he figured he didn’t really care much even for a towel. Vegard would be fast asleep and no one else would be curious enough. He quickly wiped his body and went out of the bathroom. He hadn’t walked around naked for a while, and it was a rather comforting feeling, after all. Maybe Vegard was actually honest and they needed this rest in godforsaken Granskauen?

                He smiled to himself as he pulled on some underwear, a pair of old jeans and a warm jumper. Vegard was fast asleep, curled up on his bed. He hadn’t even bothered covering himself with the blanket. Bård sighed as sudden warmth filled his chest and rose up to his throat. He came to Vegard and quickly and carefully tucked him up.

                ‘Sweet dreams, you bastard,’ he whispered, grabbed his coat from the hanger and went out, locking the door as he left. Vegard would probably sleep a while, and even if he woke up early, he wouldn’t really want to leave the room.

* * *

* * *

                Evening Granskauen was chilly and windy. Bård went up and down the streets and found it a stereotypical Norwegian village, a tourist’s dream: little colourful houses, greyish autumn parks, woods and a fjord.

                _Excellent, -_ he thought, drawing his head into his shoulders and wrapping his scarf better around his neck on the go. _Such an innocent-looking out-of-the-way place, it’s pretty easy to hide a master prank somewhere in the… -_ he took a second to read the sign, - _well, for example, Solsikke Park. Enjoyable. What’s around there? Oh, pines. And not only. Wonderful. Couldn’t have invented a stupider name for the park if I tried…_

Everything was ordinary and somehow expressly pretty. Bård sat down on a little bench under a half-bare yellowing tree.

                _When people grow older, they lose their hair and go grey. The trees go yellow and lose all their leaves until they don’t have any and they just stand there completely bald…_

He caught himself on having just invented the stupidest metaphor ever and stood up in annoyance.

                _This town is having a terrible influence on me. Fucking Vegard…_

He left the park quickly, went past a few little shops and a couple of quiet people and felt bored as never before. Not that he was particularly active after too much show and plane.

                _But still…_

Only one building drew his attention. It was a modern box of glass and metal, rather weird looking on this pretty candy-town background. Bård shrugged up at it.

 _Neither of us is meant to be here, -_ he addressed the building. - _But w_ _hatever, I just wanna go to the hotel. I guess I don't even have to turn back, let see._

He didn’t have to make a too big circle. He turned around once, again, then went straight on and came right back to the other side of the hotel. The evening town made him a little desperate. It was only nine o’clock, but Bård felt the urge to just head upstairs to their room and go straight to bed.

                _Yes, that is what I’ll do._

                He took the key on the reception desk and headed upstairs to the second floor. On his way he looked at his reflection in the big windows and saw nothing but a rather tall and stooped figure, wrapped in a coat and a scarf as to be absolutely ordinary. He was like all the autumn people were. Just like the town.

                He opened the door to the room quietly, keeping in mind Vegard could be still asleep. He actually turned out to be. He was sleeping in the same position, curled up under the blanket. Bård glanced to him from the hallway and turned away in frustration.

                _You sleep so peacefully! It’s easy, oh fuck, so easy! You’re sleeping and probably dreaming of something good. And I’m here awake and wondering! What are you doing, you brat? What do you think you’re doing to me?_

He toed off his keds and threw off his coat, went into the room, taking off his sweater on the way, jumped out of the jeans and threw everything onto the back of the chair. He didn’t even turn on the light. He slipped under the blankets on his bed and closed his eyes. But in the dim blue light that was still so irritatingly visible his thoughts kept returning to Vegard and his prank. Bård turned to his brother. As if having heard him, Vegard finally turned under his blanket, too. Now they were facing each other. Bård examined Vegard’s face. He smiled a little at something he was dreaming of and Bård had to hold a frustrated groan.

                _If only you’d tell me! If only you didn’t wait this long! I don’t wanna stay prepared. I don’t wanna be in this town. We’ve just arrived and it already feels like an eternity._

The light from the balcony wouldn’t let him sleep. Giving out a quiet annoyed groan, he stood up, drew the curtains and went back to bed. Thankfully, he still hadn’t had enough sleep, so he didn’t have to think over and over much more. The exhausted brain gave up and Bård flew off to the land of dreams.

* * *

* * *

                The next day the bright light right into his face woke him up. He rubbed his face with his hands and opened his eyes readily. He was feeling fine – the first time in ages he felt good in the morning. He sat up at once and smiled a little. On the opposite wall the clock was showing half past twelve. The sun was pouring over him through the huge window. He glanced around to see if Vegard was anywhere around or if he had already left to prepare him a trap somewhere in Solsikke Park.

                Vegard wasn’t in the room, obviously. His bed was a mess and the bathroom door was half opened, but no sound was coming out of it – he had probably left in a hurry. Bård stood up from his bed, smiling widely.

                _There, this is better, you shit. I hope you have something to surprise me._

On Vegard’s bedside cabinet he noticed his phone and a key. This was rather odd, Vegard didn’t go anywhere without his phone. And the key meant the door had to be opened. Bård went to the door and turned the knob to look out.

Then turned again.

Then glanced back to the room in confusion. The door was locked. The key was resting on Vegard’s bedside cabinet. And Bård was locked in the room from inside – alone.

                He frowned. Then quickly went to check again – in the bathroom, on the balcony. Nothing. He leaned over the railing and looked down at the street down there. A few people were passing.

                ‘Vegard!’

                Someone glanced up. It was ridiculous, and Bård quickly understood it. But anyway, his brother’s mysterious dissolving through the locked door was absolutely odd. He returned to the room, wondering.

                _Maybe he had a spare key? Maybe they helped him?.. Maybe he climbed down the frickin’ ladder!_

Finally lost, he sat down onto Vegard’s bed. Something else on the bedside cabinet drew his attention. There was a card he hadn’t noticed before. Bård grabbed it.

                The first thing he noticed was an inscription in his brother’s handwriting: ‘ _My surprise gift for you. XO, Vegard’_. _Hugs and kisses,_ \- Bård scoffed, but eagerly stared at the card. ‘CRS’ the letters under the big triangular logo said. And below the decryption – ‘Consumers’ Recreation Service’. Nothing more. But curious Bård turned the card around. On the other side an address was written – then again, in Vegard’s hand...


	4. Chapter 3

                The address Vegard had written turned to be that modern building Bård had noticed the previous evening. There was also an invitation on the bedside cabinet, and Bård made sure he didn’t forget it. He was walking down the street counting the houses, and when he noticed the shiny blue glass box on the horizon he already knew where he was heading.

                It was warmer that day, and in a hurry Bård felt almost hot. What’s more, he had eaten haphazardly, not even hungry, and now he was so worried he felt he was about to throw up. He kept telling himself not to get overexcited, but anticipation wouldn’t let him calm down. He was finally approaching Vegard’s ‘surprise gift’ and his poor head was overfilled with thoughts.

                _What is there? What in the world is he plotting? What is a ‘Consumers’ Recreation Service’? What recreation is it about? What the heck?! What in the world?!_

In front of the building he stopped and adjusted his scarf. He didn’t need anyone to think he was the littlest bit worried. He had to be calm, he wouldn’t let Vegard surprise him. Or at least he wouldn’t let him know.

* * *

* * *

 

                Inside the building he stopped again and looked around, rather confused. The muffled chatter filled the air. People in fine suits were walking up and down the stairs and through the hall. One nice little lady smiled at him. In front of himself he saw a huge stand. ‘CRS’ it said beside a triangular logo. ‘Consumers’ Recreation Service’.

                Bård frowned. He reached in his pocket for the card and compared the logos. Then walked around the stand, examining every scratch, even touched it with his hand. It wasn’t fake. The building was a real office building, busy and full of people. Bård shrugged.

                He had to somehow push the mechanism. If the prank Vegard had prepared was this big, the better. He turned around and chose the prettiest target. It actually turned out to be an old lady.

                ‘Excuse me?!’ he called, approaching her. ‘Excuse me, miss?’

                She turned to glance at him, but not really as if she had been expecting him – or maybe Bård was just making things up, he was a little too tensed. A smile lit up the lady’s face.

                ‘Me?’

                ‘Yeah!’ Bård was already standing beside her. ‘Look, my brother told me to come here, he told me it was a surprise gift. I’m actually sure it’s but a one huge prank, so if you know anything, could you please help?’

                ‘A prank?’ The old lady laughed like a young girl. ‘Oh, young man, it could as well be! But if it’s a gift, as your brother says, you should probably have an invitation. Do you have one?’

Bård quickly reached in his pocked for the invitation, it was bent in two and he felt a little ashamed. But the old lady just examined it and laughed again.

‘Oh, young man, you have the chance of your life! You should come to the second floor and to the room number forty.’

                Bård smiled at her and nodded.

                ‘Yeah, thank you. Thank you a lot.’

                And he hurried towards the stairs and up to the second floor.

                The numbers on the doors were big and right in order – even side and uneven side, so he found the room forty quickly and knocked.

                ‘Please, come in,’ a voice of a man responded from behind the door. Bård pressed the doorknob and came in, trying to collect himself as well as he could. Here, here it was, he could almost smell the prank in the air!..

                The man at the table raised his head. He was about Bård’s age or a little older and wore a grey suit. The stare from behind his little glasses was sharp and curious.

                ‘Good morning, sir,’ he greeted. ‘How can I help you?’

                ‘Er…’ Bård stopped for a moment, looking for words. ‘You see, my brother told me to come here…’

                ‘Do you have an invitation?’ the man interrupted calmly.

                ‘I – ah – oh, oh, sure, I do!’

                Bård had almost forgotten about the prank in a moment – the man at the table was too calmly confident. He took the crumpled invitation out and, glancing down in slight hesitation, handed it to the man. The man examined the paper, straightening it carefully and without a trace of annoyance, then glanced up at Bård and smiled a little.

                ‘Yes, Mr Ylvisåker. I remember now. The younger brother. Nice to meet you, I’m Finn Weber.’

                Bård shook his hand, trying to hold back a chuckle.

                _Could as well have come up with something not this obvious, -_ he thought. A little wrinkle appeared between Mr Weber’s light eyebrows.

                ‘Is anything wrong?’

                ‘No, not at all,’ Bård smiled. ‘It’s just that… a funny coincidence…’

                ‘I know,’ Mr Weber cut off sharply. ‘I hate the song, just so you know. I would ask you not to mention it, if possible.’

                He seemed quite sincerely offended, and Bård bit back his tongue.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, really. I just wanted to find out about my brother’s plans. It’s all some kind of a prank, right? Wait, don’t start!’ He raised his hand preventively before Mr Weber could open his mouth. ‘I know that Vegard is plotting something. I don’t know how much he paid for this all, but it’s surely one huge prank he wants to play on me for revenge. The thing is, he didn’t even bother hiding. He was so goddamn obvious you can now not try to deny the facts. Please, just get me to it as soon as possible and let me ground my dear brother once again!’

As he spoke, Mr Weber’s smile grew wider and wider, but he tamed it, and only his sharp eyes were laughing as Bård stopped, out of breath and courage.

‘Oh, I see,’ he said in a tone of an experienced psychiatrist. ‘Well, Mr Ylvisåker, first of all, I’m afraid, I have to disappoint you. We’re a respectable and responsible company known worldwide, and we don’t take part in any kind of pranks.’

Bård scoffed.

‘Oh ple-ease!’

Mr Weber raised his hand a little, not a muscle moved on his face.

‘Mr Ylvisåker,’ he said softly, ‘please believe me. We’ve been informed about the curiosities in the relationship between you and your brother, I’m well aware of who you two are, and I can assure that the invitation you got is legitimate. Read it again, if you wish. The document that you’ve so mercilessly crumpled says that you now have the right to participate in The Game, as verified and paid for by Vegard Ylvisåker, according to our reports.’ He said it all in such a calm and professional tone Bård closed his mouth and sat down onto the chair.

Truly Mr Weber was a manipulator. He quickly drew up some papers, not stopping speaking calmly:

‘Your brother paid for your Game, so you may start as soon as you take a test, if the results are satisfactory. If you don’t mind, we can start right now,’ he handed him a bunch of freshly-printed papers. Bård looked to them – there was a long column of questions.

‘I don’t want to play any kind of games,’ he muttered, confused. Mr Weber was way too serious for him to handle right now.

‘Your brother didn’t think so,’ Mr Weber shrugged and smiled a little, managing to stay an ideal office worker. ‘He said you would enjoy it and he was willing to spend his money on you, caring for the best experience.’

‘Oh…’

Bård looked through the questions again.

**_Put plus if you agree/rather agree and minus if you disagree/rather disagree._ **

**_1\. You consider yourself a caring person._ **

**_2\. You are afraid of death._ **

**_3\. You are more afraid of death of your loved ones than of your own._ **

**_4\. You love your siblings._ **

**_5\. You have at least once experienced an incest wish._ **

He shook his head almost furiously.

‘What kind of a test is this?!’

‘A test everyone passes for The Game,’ Mr Weber replied imperturbably. ‘There exists a standard choice of questions, and for each Game they’re chosen from that list to ensure the best experience.’

‘Incest wish?!’ Bård gasped for air, he couldn’t hold back an indignant chuckle.

‘The standard questions,’ Mr Weber repeated, raising his eyes from the papers and peering right through Bård with his sharp clear eyes. Bård arched his eyebrows, but decided to let it go for once.

 _Actually, -_ he suddenly thought, - _maybe this whole thing is just another joke of Vegard’s. He’s always had a weird sense of humour. He probably needed me fixed somewhere for a while so he could prepare something…_

He put a confident minus by the ‘incest wish’. _You wish, bastard. I won’t turn my back to you ever again._

He put a minus as well by a statement on the second or third page, when he had already lost the count to them: ‘ _You love your older sibling(s) unconditionally.’_ But then, after making it to the end of that enormous list, he turned quickly around, making sure nobody was looking, found that statement and changed  the mark to plus.

 _Giving you that, you shit, -_ he thought, licking his lips as he passed the papers to Mr Weber. _Just so you know that your little brother still loves you with your idiotic pranks and inappropriate humour, not even trying to be less obvious. Be ashamed._

Mr Weber glanced at the papers and put them in a folder.

‘Come after me,’ he said. ‘We have a couple more things to do, Mr Ylvisåker.’

* * *

* * *

                Bård ran into the cool light bathroom and locked the door. He needed to be left alone just for a couple of minutes. He needed to wash his face and to empty his bladder, and he also needed to eat, brush his hair and cry himself to sleep.

                He leaned over the sink and spat out a couple of the worst swearing words he could come up with. Then turned on the cold water and washed his face well. Then glanced at himself in the mirror. There was a new little pimple on his chin. He ran his fingers through his hair.

                _Goddamn Vegard!.._

He was worn out to the point. He didn’t know how much time he had spent here. He wasn’t even able to count the hours on his watch. They were seemingly torturing him. Another round of questions, a psychiatric, psychological – or, heck, psychopathic! – questionnaire, then medical testing, all kinds of test material were taken, and then he had to watch the video fragments, and that was the worst part. They were outright disturbing. Bård could bear a lot of stuff, at least so he told himself all the time, but a lot of this he just _couldn’t_ bear. It made him want to scratch himself, to cut and to bite, but he had to stay calm.

                _What for, Vegard?!_

                Now he almost regretted putting that goddamn plus on the paper. He hated Vegard. And at the same time, paradoxically, but so it always was between them – he desperately needed someone to complain to, to be angry at, to push and to cling to. He needed Vegard with his unconditional love.

                With the products of digestion – or whatever it was – the great part of terrible aftertaste seemed to have left Bård’s body. He made sure his trousers were zipped well before he walked out of the bathroom. He had to eat. Everything else would wait.

* * *

* * *

 

                The cold air cooled his head and refreshed him quickly. The idiotic questions clearly written by his brother were blown away with the wind. On his way down the street Bård figured out he didn’t really want to return to the hotel.

                _If he’s really expecting me, let him wait some more. Like hell I’ll be quick. I’ll make him wait…_

                He looked around for a café and saw one just across the road, looked right and left and, not even caring for any rules, ran to his aim.

                The café turned out to be a cosy and quiet little place. Bård bought himself a rather late lunch, not denying himself a big cup of tea with cookies. He didn’t want to drink anything strong after that torture – quite surprisingly.

                He ate in no hurry, quietly, enjoying every bit. The food warmed him up and calmed him down. He wasn’t afraid of Vegard’s pranks any more. He tried calling his brother, just for a reassurance that he was but a shameless dick, got no answer and became reassured.  He paid and left a good tip for the waitress. He put on his coat carefully, wrapped his scarf well around his neck so it would be easy to hide his nose in it, and went out. He headed down the streets of Granskauen towards the hotel, trying not to wonder too much about the CRS. Mr Weber had left an unpleasant impression after him and the test itself was like a nightmare.

                He went into the hotel and headed to the reception desk.

                ‘Excuse me, I need the key to room 98.’

                The reception girl looked through under the desk and shrugged at Bård.

                ‘It’s not here. Maybe you have it, did you search your pockets well?’ She smiled. Bård shook his head.

                ‘I’m sure I left it here.’

                ‘Do you occupy that room all by yourself?’

                Bård bit his lower lip. Vegard.

                ‘Thanks,’ he muttered and hurried to the staircase. Only one thought was pounding in his temples: _Vegard is back._ He could only wonder what Vegard had in his pocket for him. In the middle of the staircase he slowed down his pace and regained his breath. He needed to be calm. Vegard wouldn’t take him by surprise.

* * *

* * *

 

                The room number 98 was unlocked. Bård could tell the moment he pressed the doorknob, by the way it clicked. He took a deep breath, feeling that all the food he had eaten had formed a big and ugly lump of worry in his abdomen. He slowly opened the door and looked inside the room, not yet daring to enter. The lights were on, all of them: in the bathroom with the door to it thrown open, in the little hallway and the main room. Everything was way too quiet, Bård could hear his heart thump in his ears. He went in and closed the door carefully and quietly behind his back. For some reason he decided not to lock it. He headed slowly, in tiny steps, for the main room.

                Vegard was lying on his bed. Bård saw his feet first, in those bright orange socks he would sometimes wear just to annoy his little brother. Bård exhaled, he was so relieved now he was ready to forgive everything. It took him two jumps to be inside the room – and then his knees almost gave way and the air in his mouth suddenly became bitter and fuzzy.

                Vegard was lying on his back on the messed bed, and his head was turned in an unnatural angle. His bluish skin had some strange sheen to it and his jet-black curls wouldn’t let Bård see the face of the corpse.

                Vegard’s body with broken neck was resting on his bed, glaring invisibly at the opposite wall.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is sort of messed up...

                Bård’s first urge was to withdraw. Just quietly slip away through the unlocked door, to disappear, to dissolve, not to exist. He was barely aware of what he saw in front of him. His heart didn’t seem to beat for a few long sticky seconds. Bård was just staring at the body on the bed.

                And then it occurred to him. In three hits.

                _Corpse._

_Brother._

_Vegard is dead._

The sound of his heart thumping sounded like thunder as he rushed at Vegard.

                ‘Vegard! VEGARD!!!’

                He grabbed his shoulders and understood they were way too hard and unyielding. He took Vegard’s face in his both hands, and even before he turned the head and two glass brown eyes looked at him blankly he understood that it wasn’t Vegard.

                It was but a life-size wax figure of Vegard.

                A rush flowed off so rapidly it left Bård weak in the knees. He stared at the doll’s perfect face silently for another couple of seconds, stroked its forehead absentmindedly, brushed off the jet-black curls. And then fully understood: it didn’t feel like his brother – warm and breathing and alive. It wasn’t Vegard.

                He took his hands off the doll and glanced around, ears still ringing in silence. Nobody jumped at him from the opened bathroom, nobody appeared at the balcony door. Bård was alone in the room with a wax doll. He glanced to it, finally regaining enough common sense to examine it.

                The doll’s face was masterfully sculpted and looked exactly like Vegard’s. But it gave Bård chills: first of all, the doll wasn’t smiling, as most such sculptures were supposed to do. It was looking down a little, and a tiny wrinkle, as precise as if it was real, was in between the drawn eyebrows. But secondly, and more importantly, its glass brown eyes were a little too big, and that gave the face a strange, ghostly impression. The doll was disappointed in Bård. Bård moved his shoulders uneasily and tried not to look at the face. He looked down and had time to notice that although the face was perfect, the body was seemingly painted haphazardly and the colour of it was unhealthily bluish. It reminded him too much of a corpse, and Vegard in his mind couldn’t be associated with a corpse. He tried not to look at the skin at all. He focused on the clothes instead.

The sculpture was dressed in Vegard’s clothes, the very same ones he’d been wearing the previous day before going to bed. Bård frowned. Something here was not as it should be. He stood up sharply, keeping his eyes on the doll, as if it could jump to its feet and attack him. It didn’t move. For sure. But Bård backed up to the wardrobe, and only when his shoulder blades touched its smooth and cold surface he dared to turn and show the doll his back. Now his moves became sharp and fidgety. He threw out Vegard’s neatly folded clothes, barely looking at them.

They weren’t there. The familiar dark blue jeans – Vegard’s favourite, - a white tee and a leather jacket, they weren’t there. Bård collapsed to his knees and examined every single shirt and pair of trousers. They were all there – all that he remembered. Vegard was surely not the one to walk the streets naked. Bård suddenly felt cold.

In desperate denial, he hurried towards the doll, leaned over it and inhaled, closing his eyes – he wasn’t sure if he did it to sharpen the senses or not to look accidentally into huge brown irises.

He remembered Vegard’s smell in details. He knew the order exactly, as he recognized it: the deodorant, the aftershave, the detergent, the shampoo – it smelled faintly, but gave a little odd aftertaste…  and just a little bit the tired smell of skin.  That one was particularly _Vegard_ about the smell. Bård swallowed involuntarily. The clothes still kept the scent of Vegard. Those were his clothes, his white tee and black leather jacket, his pair of old dark blue jeans. He took them right off his body… or did somebody help him?

Bård flinched back from the doll. It was weird – having his brother’s very clothes on someone else. On an inanimate object. On a _freaking life-size wax figure._ For a little while they were silently staring at each other, and Bård was the first to look away. This thing was painfully like Vegard and equally frustratingly unlike Vegard. This was a cruel trick, he thought.

‘Search the pockets.’

At that moment Bård almost had a heart attack – for umpteenth time that evening. He looked around, his poor heart thumping again, searching for a person to have said that. Nobody. Only the screen of the phone on the bedside cabinet was shining dimly for a second more. Vegard’s phone.

He took the phone and unlocked it. For a moment he was desperately hoping that this was a weird sound for a text message. But there were no text messages. Only a missed call from ‘Ankle-biter Bård’.

The telephone addressed him again:

‘Search the pockets on the trousers, hey!’

Bård didn’t even have the strength to question anything anymore. He just put the phone back to the bedside cabinet, noting that the voice wasn’t familiar. He turned to the doll and moved his fingers uneasily. After all, he was told to search the pockets on the trousers, and it felt a little weird, despite the doll being inanimate and _surely not Vegard_. He tamed the unwelcome embarrassment, leaned down and reached carefully into the pocket.

Something was stuffed to the bottom of it – it was a little surprising how deep the pocket actually was. Bård carefully moved his hand deeper into the pocket when suddenly he felt something through the thin fabric, on the sculpted leg. He didn’t even understand how he pressed it, but it clicked and something flashed on the edge of Bård’s sight. He glanced to it, startled, and almost gasped. Now a huge bulge was protruding the dolls’ trousers around the crotch. Bård winced involuntarily, grabbed the thing on the bottom of the pocket and jerked his hand away, trying not to touch the bulge. He didn’t want to know whose face the doll had now. It was ridiculous and disgusting. For some reason a question about the ‘incest wish’ in the questionnaire came to his mind.

_Is this supposed to check me? What incest wish, man?! A massive heart attack and a life-long trauma, more likely._

He turned his back to the doll and straightened the paper. He was almost relieved to see the familiar handwriting: ‘ _You have fun, I pay. XO’_ Vegard, with his goddamn hugs and pecks! But Bård was ready to kiss that note.

But the relief wasn’t long. There was a little inscription under Vegard’s line, written in an unfamiliar roundish hand: ‘ _Why is it always so unfair?’_

Bård knitted his eyebrows as he re-read the full note. ‘ _You have fun, I pay. Why is it always so unfair?’_

He thought he heard a chuckle behind his back. Bård looked quickly around, then fell to his knees to look under the beds, although no one could possibly fit under there.

‘Vegard!’

He called for his brother desperately , straightening, but still kneeling, looking around the room helplessly.

‘Vegard, God damn you! Where are you?! Answer me! This joke stopped being funny a while ago! Vegard!’

‘The subscriber hears you, but cannot answer at the moment,’ the mocking voice from the phone replied to him. Bård could tell it was from the phone. He grabbed it from the bedside cabinet, squeezed it with his slightly trembling hands and stared at it.

‘What do you mean _he cannot answer_?!’

‘I mean that he doesn’t really have to,’ the voice replied thoughtfully. ‘And perhaps doesn’t want to. He’s just laughed at you oh so well!’

‘He couldn’t have,’ Bård exhaled. Then he broke into shouting: ‘No, don’t you dare tell me my brother is a cruel shit!!! Don’t you dare! I won’t believe you!’

‘He had someone to learn from,’ the voice chuckled.

‘I can break this motherfucking phone,’ Bård hissed.

‘And you will never know that the Game has started!’ the voice stated triumphantly. ‘And congratulations on that.’

Bård almost choked.

‘The Game?! The – fucking – GAME?! That shit was real?!’

‘More than real!’ the voice replied seriously. ‘The Game is on, and the aim of it, dear Bård, is to find Vegard.’

‘ _Find_ him!’

‘That’s right.’

Bård turned to sit down and lean his back onto the bed. This was overwhelming. Too much happened in one day.

‘What’s with Vegard?’ he asked weakly. ‘How is he? What’s he doing? Who the fuck told him it was a good idea?’

The voice from the phone didn’t answer for a while. Bård stared at the black screen silently. Finally the voice sighed.

‘Oh, you know. You will understand. A little later. I can’t tell you a lot. I’m just here to say you’ll be getting hints on your way to find your brother. Good luck!’

The phone screen shone and Vegard’s wallpaper retuned Bård to reality.

‘Hey! What kind of hints? What am I supposed to do? Hey, man?’

There was no voice. Bård was sitting alone in the room with an aroused doll on his brother’s bed, talking to the phone.

* * *

* * *

                Bård hid his nose in his scarf as he left the hotel and made sure the key was safe in his pocket. It was somehow comforting to play with the key and warm it with his hand. What’s more, there, in the coat pocket, it was safe from Vegard or possible CRS workers. Bård even stopped taking everything with a grain of salt as he would, because everything was _damn too real_ , and because of it quite disturbing. He confessed to himself on his way down the street that he slightly doubted his own sanity. And Vegard’s, on that matter, too.

                He was headed to the CRS with a stern design to stop the Game, whatever it was. He was told that he _could stop it if and when he wished_ back in the office, and Bård relied on the word of Mr. Finn Weber. Although, he kept telling himself, something really unreliable was to that company. Something… _tricky._

                He just wanted Vegard back. He had barely spent a day without his brother, but he was frustrated with ignorance. He wanted to punch him in the face and then give him a good hug and make him swear on his balls that he would never ever do that again.

                He turned around the corner with a little green bird painted on the wall. He remembered it well. Granskauen was ridiculously simple to learn by heart. But to Bård’s heart it didn’t feel good. He was heading to the CRS office and he could already see the building in front of him. The glass box was almost entirely darkened and Bård quickened his steps.

                Behind his back he suddenly heard fast heavy steps and panting. He looked over his shoulder quickly and saw a middle-aged man running after him. His long coat was unbuttoned and his shirt tails got out of his trousers, revealing a roundish tummy as he ran. The man seemed desperate and Bård stopped and turned to him.

                ‘Sir, are you alright?’ he called.

                The man reached him in two jumps and grabbed his shoulders.

                ‘Are you Vegard’s brother? _Are you Ylvisåker_?!’

                Bård frowned.

                ‘I am, but how….’

                ‘Don’t go there!’ the man shouted desperately. ‘Don’t, he’s going to kill you! He wants to kill you _too!_ ’

                Suddenly his voice broke and something in his throat made a weird squelching noise. He fell to his knees heavily, his hands moved to his left side, but he didn’t have time to grasp at it. He fell down and stayed on the ground, eyes wide open in a mix of surprise and despair. In the dim yellow light Bård could distinguish a little hole in his side. A bullet hole.

                He quickly felt the man’s pulse. There wasn’t any, he had died momentarily. Bård jumped to his feet and looked around, but there was nobody in sight. Bård backed off from the man. If anybody saw them, he would be the main suspect. This thought flashed in his mind. He turned and ran for his life towards the CRS building. No matter what awaited there. He wouldn’t return to the hotel room for the love or money. He wouldn’t spend a night with an aroused doll of his brother, who was just simply _gone_ without a trace.

                His mind suddenly became crystal clear – but for a moment. The man’s words sounded in his head: ‘He wants to kill you too!’ It was most probably referring to Vegard. But _how_?

                Bård caught himself thinking over quickly. Vegard ‘wants to kill him too’. _Too_. Whom else? But no, the ‘too’ didn’t even matter. Why would Vegard want to kill _him_ in the first place? _That_ Vegard he knew, the one who grew tender when he was tired, who laughed when he made fun of him, that Vegard who was always there, that Vegard whom he could lift from the ground without much effort!The only thought that Vegard was capable of even _thinking_ of killing him was disgusting.

                But then… why would the man say that? No, he couldn’t be right, Bård told himself. And the stupid note couldn’t mean anything.

                But on the bottom of his heart doubt intertwined with despair, and he didn’t know where they had come from. He just hurried to the CRS. There, there he would stop this madness. One day was already too much. And now that man got killed…

                This was an odd one out. Bård still couldn’t fully realise what had happened. It simply didn’t fit into his head. The fury rose from his heart and stuck into a lump in his throat as he was slowly becoming aware on the run. The man got killed! For warning him he got killed!

He was almost beside the building when he slowed down his pace, almost stopping. He suddenly understood exactly what was wrong. A man warned him that Vegard was about to kill him too and then got shot. Something was odd, wasn’t it?

Bård stopped in front of the building and looked up at it. It was dimly lit in the hall and through the glass door he could distinguish something that hadn’t been there before. Or did it just seem to him?..

Bård looked around. Nobody was there. He was alone in the street. He had to dare. He had to do everything to stop it. He came up to the glass door slowly – it didn’t slide open. He pressed his face to the cold glass and looked inside.

In the hall huge glowing letters standing on each other and hanging from the ceiling, swinging slightly, formed a slightly trembling phrase: ‘DID YOU BELIEVE THE OLD FOOL?’

Bård frowned. The cold glass to the forehead and this phrase suddenly brought him back to reality. Really, could he seriously even question Vegard?!

But then it became even clearer to him. They _knew_ the man would warn him. What if ‘he’ that wanted to kill him wasn’t Vegard? What if Vegard was in the ‘ _too’_?..

This thought made Bård week in the knees.

‘Vegard…’ he whispered  involuntarily. The glass in front of him grew misted, keeping him tied to this very pavement. No. It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be.

Driven with this new fear, he started banging at the door furiously.

‘Hey! Open! Open me! Answer me! What is going on?!’

There was no answer. Not even a guard to come out and stop him. Bård roared quietly and stomped his foot helplessly, swearing under his breath. Vegard, Vegard! It suddenly occurred to him in another burst: what if Vegard was dead?

He threw that thought away immediately as if it was against the laws of nature. Vegards didn’t die like _that_. This was what he had learnt by heart. But then – another thought: what if he was held by force? What else could the ‘he hears you but won’t answer’ part mean? Bård squeezed his head with his hands. No. No-no-no!

But his desperate denial didn’t help. He tried to think, tried to force the thoughts into order, but all he could think out was that Vegard was still alive and they made him watch his little brother and listen to him.

_Maybe he is as afraid as I am. Maybe he is hurt. Maybe he has it worse. Maybe they’re manipulating us both.  Vegard!_

But on the back of his mind one thought wouldn’t let go. A part of Bård still believed that it was only a prank. A cruel prank. That was so grounding and merciless. That was impossible. That would be one death on Vegard’s hands. But that was a possibility.

The cruel thoughts seemingly woke Bård’s mind.

_There must be a back entrance to this building. I have to enter. I must. Vegard, Vegard, what have you done?! What are you doing? What is happening? Help me, Vegard!_

But he wouldn’t call for him out loud. He was proud. He just gathered himself and ran looking for the back entrance.

But the more he examined the glass box all around, the more he became convinced the entrance was one and only. After running around it for the third time, he started desperately hitting the glass walls – he didn’t know what he was hoping for. In mad fury he threw himself onto the glass until he sank to the ground, worn out and probably bruised under his clothes, and leaned back onto the wall.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong. He had to sleep. He had to forget. Maybe this all was just a nightmare. Maybe Vegard was calling for him there, in reality, and couldn’t wake his little brother. Bård pinched himself and winced. Everything was too real to be true.

Too much had happened. He couldn’t bear it any more. He knew he wouldn’t go back to the hotel. He wouldn’t spend another night in that goddamn room. It was better to sleep on the bench. Or right here… beside this building… that stole his brother… at least so he believed now.

His thoughts were getting tangled and he was too worn out to untangle them. He closed his eyes and fell to the side heavily, grasping at the key in his pocket.

_Where are you, brother?.._


	6. Chapter 5

                ‘…Yes, officer, found him here. Couldn’t wake him up.’

                Someone’s fingers pressed to Bård’s neck.

‘He’s alive, nothing to worry about,’ the second voice was hoarse, low and lively. Someone slapped his cheeks mercilessly. Bård groaned. ‘See? Told you.’

Bård opened his eyes and immediately closed them again, not even having time to focus. The light was too bright. His entire body hurt and he was frozen.

‘Sir! Wake up!’ the low voice called in a friendly manner. ‘Are you okay, sir?’

‘No…’ Bård whispered.

‘Do you need any help?’

‘Could you help me rise?’ Bård asked hoarsely, not opening his eyes. ‘I… I can explain everything…’

‘I’m sure,’ the low voice replied right beside his ear. ‘Help me, Mr Fawkes, would you?’

Two pairs of arms grabbed his aching body and forced him to his feet. They leaned him onto the wall, supporting him still. They were probably waiting for him to look at them. Bård brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. He remembered the previous day clearly. He had been sleeping beside the CRS building. He still had to find Vegard. He had witnessed a man killed for trying to warn him.

_‘You have fun – I pay. XO Why is it always so unfair?’_

_‘The Game has started! And congratulations on that…’_

_‘The aim is to find Vegard.’_

‘ _He wants to kill you too!’_

_‘Did you believe the old fool?’_

He traced the previous day in his head and opened his eyes to finally reconnect with reality. Two men were standing in front of him.

One of them was a policeman. That was a middle-aged man with stubble on his cheeks, of medium build and medium height – slightly shorter than Bård, wide-shouldered and wide-smiled. His dark eyes were sparkly and lively, and for a moment he reminded Bård of Vegard.

The other one was probably a cleaner, he was wearing a kind of a uniform with a CRS logo on the left side of the chest. He was tall, about Magnus’ build and had a concerned look to his face.

‘Good morning,’ Bård exhaled.

The officer smiled widely.

‘Yeah, good morning, sir. I hope it is good for you, but have you slept in the street the entire night?’

‘I guess so,’ Bård said quietly, closing his eyes for another moment. ‘I… I can explain anything. Actually I’m glad you found me, officer. Something is going on here, but I don’t really want to talk about it right here…’

‘It’s all good, but can I see your documents?’ the officer smiled.

‘Sure…’

Bård tapped his pockets, but found only the key, a crumpled leaflet about Granskauen and a CRS card. He unzipped his coat and reached into the inner one, although he already knew he wouldn’t find anything there. He clearly remembered he had had his wallet and documents in his inner pocket because he felt them all the time – even when he was falling asleep the previous day. Now they weren’t there. He groaned.

‘I guess they’ve been stolen,’ he said wearily. ‘From the inner pocket. To be honest, I’m not even surprised, officer. Not any more.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to go with me, sir,’ the officer said with sincere regret in his voice. Bård smiled a little.

‘For sure, officer,’ he said. ‘I have things to tell you about.’

‘I hope they are terrible,’ the officer dropped with a smirk, helping Bård towards the police car. ‘It’s really boring to be a policeman in Granskauen. Everything is so… quiet, you know. And then I get a call from that Fawkes, saying he found a man and couldn’t wake him up… you know, forgive me on these words, but I hoped you were dead. Well, not you exactly, but any man he found there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m just so bored…’

He helped Bård into the backseat. His mate turned to glance at him and gave a whistle.

‘He-ey, good sir, what in the world happened to you? You look like you’ve been beaten up! Where have you found him, Larsen?’

The first officer slipped into the driver’s seat.

‘By that weird-ass company building,’ he dropped, as if Bård wasn’t there anymore. ‘I don’t know what happened, but he says he’ll tell us when we arrive. I really hope something has happened, not just another loud neighbour. What’s more, he’s staying at our hotel, he must be from some other place. I really hope we finally have a job to do, Jens.’

Bård leaned back and tried not to listen to the policemen. They talked without stopping and Bård’s head hurt, but he consoled himself with the thought that he finally had a real chance to find Vegard and sort the CRS thing out. He wondered why he hadn’t addressed the police before, but he figured he was probably too weirded out at first. After all, he easily forgave himself for the shock.

Now he was feeling much more real. The presence of police and people in the streets soothed him somehow. The only thing he wondered about was that the yesterday’s killing never once slipped in the policemen’s conversation, and given they were so bored, it would have been the main topic of theirs had they known about it. But Bård shrugged it off. His main concern was Vegard and his further destiny.

* * *

* * *

The car stopped by the police office and the two policemen guided Bård inside. The first thing he asked was where the bathroom was and they told him. He locked himself there, took off his coat, emptied his bladder, made his clothes look a little neater by cleaning off the hairs and feathers from the coat with a wet hand, washed his face and finally woke up. He made sure the door was locked and took off his sweater to look at himself. His shoulders were severely bruised, his sides had a couple bruises, too. They were fresh and reddish-blue. Bård winced and put his sweater back on again. He examined his face in the mirror just to find two more pimples. He sighed and leaned onto the sink.

Vegard. Vegard was gone.

Now that everything around became so usual and safe, the shock seemingly fell on him all at once. He remembered everything: the doll and how he thought it was Vegard, the strange note, the killing he had witnessed and a warning. Now he was scared, truly scared for Vegard. He trembled for him with his entire heart. His big brother was gone. Someone – _he_ – wanted to kill Bård – _too_ – and Bård painfully contemplated whether the ‘too’ referred to wanting or to killing. It was like in a bad pun, except it wasn’t funny anyhow. His poor brother was somewhere, probably naked – if his clothes were on that stupid doll, - probably scared – if he was still alive, they probably held him by force. The only thing Bård couldn’t understand was _why_. What in the world had they done?

For years, all they did was trying to entertain people, to make them happy. They gave themselves entirely, leaving barely anything even for each other, even for their families sparing just a little. How did they deserve this? How did they deserve death? Maybe that ‘he’ was just a manic fan, like a fella that killed John Lennon?..

Bård’s teeth started clicking all of a sudden, His eyes filled with tears, but he held them back, biting at his lip. Now he was suddenly more than sure that Vegard and himself fell the victims of some crazy fans. He remembered Vegard reading some stories of theirs to him, and he wondered how those people would look like – the people who made them die and fuck, who basically played with them… it was actually funny to him then, funny and innocent and a little weird. He felt loved in an unusual way, but it felt nice. And now he had nothing but fear out of that knowledge.

He came out of the bathroom slightly trembling, rather cold than refreshed. He wrapped himself in his coat. Larsen, the policeman that had found him, hurried towards him. In his hands he had a sandwich and a coffee from the nearby café Bård had noticed on their way to the police station. As the man came up to Bård he handed him both.

‘Here, have this,’ he said with a smile. ‘You look terrible. You need to eat.’

This painfully reminded Bård of Vegard. A thought that it would be impolite to just let a man take care of him like this slipped in his mind, but he let it go. He took the sandwich and the cup and gave the policeman a little smile.

‘Thank you… I… really could use it.’

‘Come,’ the policeman pointed at some door with his chin. He led Bård to the little office room and shut the door. Bård sat down at the chair and put the cup and the sandwich on the edge of the clean table. The policeman shot him a delighted smile.

‘Don’t be shy,’ he invited. ‘Make yourself at home. Eat some, just have a rest.’

‘Yes… thank you.’

Bård got down to his sandwich and coffee. They were both delightfully hot and warmed his insides. The policeman took out some papers in no hurry and put them all in front of him in some order he only knew. Then he glanced up to Bård.

‘If you don’t mind, we can start. Oh, don’t worry,’ he hurried as Bård tried to chew the piece as quickly as he could, ‘I don’t mind. You’re a welcome guest.’

He was somehow too easy, almost playful, and that got Bård slightly worried. He glanced to the policeman, but the serious look on his face and the uniform managed to calm him down for once.

‘Well,’ he drawled thoughtfully, ‘where do I start?’

‘Start with where the ‘something’ started going on, I think you mentioned.’

‘Oh…’ Bård took another sip of coffee – he suddenly felt cold again. ‘Oh, I… well… I and my brother, we came here to Granskauen… to rest, he told me. We’re performers, you see…’

‘I’ve been informed,’ the policeman smiled. ‘People say that you and your brother are an excellent comedy duo, well, I don’t think I have to note it in the documents, but just for my information I will keep it… but, may I ask, do you know why your brother didn’t look for you, if you didn’t return to the hotel? I mean, one could go up and down Granskauen twice in half a day, and it’s really easy to find a man here. Or are you… not really close with your brother?..’

Bård bit his lower lip.

‘It’s… strange, you know,’ he said, looking for words desperately. ‘In fact, we’re very close, and we didn’t fight or anything… but he is… gone.’

‘Gone?’ The policeman straightened. ‘For how long?’

Bård licked his lips.

‘He just disappeared yesterday,’ he confessed after a little thinking. ‘It seems to me really that he’s been gone longer… but, you know, it’s not like he might have gone for a walk and get lost or… anything. It was more like he has got kidnapped.’

‘Kidnapped!’ The officer tried to tame childish excitement mixed with worry. ‘Why didn’t you call the police immediately?’

Bård smiled sadly.

‘it’s really strange, too,’ he said in a moment. ‘I think it just didn’t occur to me I could. Everything was… really weird. And I think it has to do with that CRS company, although I’m not even sure it’s a legitimate company.’

The officer nodded quickly, encouraging him to explain. Bård licked his lips quickly and took another sip of coffee – just for a reassurance. Everything behind was a blur. He suddenly felt like it was all but a dream. Now he could rise and go back to the hotel, and there Vegard would be expecting him with a master prank, coffee and cookies. And everything would be as okay as always…

He pushed his elbow closer to his side and hissed quietly. The bruises were there, reddish-blue and huge, he could feel them there. It wasn’t a dream. He remembered everything clearly. He took a deep breath and started explaining.

A couple of times the officer stopped him and asked him to specify. Bård was afraid he would start making faces at his suspicions and laugh at the weird things, but officer Larsen was polite and genuinely interested. He was recording all the way, noted something and frowned every time Bård mentioned the CRS company.

The killing Bård had witnessed interested him particularly, considering that, according to officer Larsen, no killing was reported and no body found anywhere.

‘So you saw a man killed with your very eyes.’

‘Yes…’ Bård said, a little perplexed, ‘but, you see, I guess I didn’t even understand what was going on. I could barely think, you know… it’s only now that I’m fully aware of what had happened. But then I could only think of the CRS and what it is. And also I was wondering about my brother… so I think someone could as well have had time to take care of the… body.’

‘What did you say he said?’ The officer was holding a pen, looking at Bård quite tensely.

‘He wants to kill you too,’ Bård repeated automatically.

The officer wrote it down quickly and asked Bård to continue. But as Bård came closer to the end, he understood just exactly how ridiculous he was when trying to get in. He started glancing nervously to the officer, but he was calm and attentive, although it wasn’t exactly settling.

‘Honestly, I think this may as well be a gang of maniacs,’ Bård finished, a little embarrassed. ‘I’m really scared now. Something weird is going on. Someone is playing with me… with us. I want to know where Vegard is. I need to get to the CRS office and find out what kind of shenanigans go on there. I’m scared for Vegard. I think you’ll understand if I say I really don’t want to lose my brother… like this. In fact, I really don’t want to lose him at all…’

He stopped. He didn’t have a way with words just about now. He had so much feeling inside all of a sudden he didn’t know how to express them and whether it was necessary. He stopped, staring at one spot, and scratched the coffee cup. He’d been scratching and crumpling it for a while now, it was already empty and cold and he was ruining it desperately and cruelly. Now, as if it was not enough, he started biting his lips. Officer Larsen looked to him with sympathy. He said a couple of standard calming words: the story was strange, of course, and they needed evidence and proof, but there was no reason not to believe him. He promised to call Bård back if and when they found out anything usual and asked him to be in touch, too, and never hesitate to address the police.

* * *

* * *

 

They let him go. A couple of officers asked him on the way if he was feeling good. He nodded absentmindedly and headed towards the exit. He didn’t know where he would go. Returning to the hotel wasn’t an option. There weren’t any clues from his torturers, too. Everything was meaningless now.

‘Hey! Hey, wait a minute!’

It was a young voice, young and lively. By some excited notes in it Bård could already tell what kind of person it was. He turned around to meet the eyes of a young girl and pulled a weary smile.

‘Yes, hello.’

                She ran up to him and stopped, examining his face.

                ‘Bård! I’m… I’m so sorry, is that really you?’

                He smiled again, but this time genuinely.

                ‘Yeah, me. Hello.’

                She covered her mouth with her hand.

                ‘Oh God. I’m so glad to see you… but… here? I mean… uh… I was just wondering what you would do in this hole, so I…’

                He tapped her shoulder. She was worried and muttering, and that was so familiar to see a fan get embarrassed in front of their favourite celebrity. She needed a reassurance. And now, as she was almost the only one caring about him around and she was another little thread tying him to who he was, he decided he’d give her all the reassurance she might need.

                He put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the building.

                ‘We just sort of came here to relax a little after the show,’ he said softly, ‘and things didn’t go quite as expected. I really need company now, I’m not really feeling good. Do you want coffee?’

                She shook her head, shrugging.

                ‘Not really.’

                ‘Maybe we could just have a little walk together, then?’ Bård smiled a little. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I'm not being creepy, I just really need a voice of sanity just now. I’m a little lost.’

                She chuckled.

                ‘Oh, and you’re inviting _me_ as a voice of sanity! You couldn’t have chosen a worse one!’ She covered her mouth with her fist. ‘Oh sorry…’

                He tapped her shoulder and smiled widely and sincerely.

                ‘Honestly, you don’t have to worry so much! It will be nice talking to you, I’m sure, let’s go! Just may I have your name?’

                She smiled up at him – she was noticeably shorter.

                ‘Yeah, sure. It’s Gjertrud. Gjerta will do.’

                He led her on down the street. They both were silent for a little while, then she asked, a little awkwardly:

                ‘So… how is Calle?’

                ‘Calle? He’s fine,’ Bård replied a little absentmindedly. ‘Thank you…’ There was another little silence, and he figured it lacked something. ‘Erm, have you met Vegard so you don’t talk about him?’

                ‘Yeah!’ she looked up to him. ‘Vegard, right! Is this another prank on him? I hope it is, and I hope it’s as excellent as your any prank.’

                Bård frowned. He was a little bit taken aback.

                ‘What prank?’

                ‘What, are you not in the mood today?’

She looked a little embarrassed again and Bård hurried:

‘No, not that… my being here – I mean, in Granskauen and the police office – has nothing to do with any pranks on Vegard. Although, in all honesty, I used to think it was a prank on me… I actually lost Vegard. Or, better to say, he is gone now and I don’t know where to look for him. Strange things are happening… did you hear anything about a murder yesterday?’

‘A murder!’ She scoffed. ‘Here, in this hole! No. And I don’t think anything could possibly happen to your brother. He just wants to do something nasty to you. But I know you can make it to your advantage! I believe in you. They all have to pay.’

Bård smiled.

‘Oh, you don’t really think Vegard can be nasty, do you? I think he’s the most harmless person around, however shitty he might seem. He’s actually a weak-hearted bastard who wants to be like me.’

She gave a short laugh.

‘Oh, don’t defend him. I know that he’s your brother, but you can’t not remember how he pulled your hair, laughed at you stuck in the aerial silk, how he slapped you… And how he just bosses you around all the time!’

Bård chuckled distrustfully.

‘He-ey, you can’t be serious! You know that it’s just us having fun, don’t you? He never seriously hurt me, and fucked if he could!’

She gave him a long, heavy look.

‘I can tell his slaps are heavy,’ she said finally and looked down again.

Bård just sniffedm but then patted her shoulder, collecting himself, and spoke gently:

‘Listen, Gjertie, he’s my brother. Let me tell you one thing, we’re family. We’re best friends. I may not say this often, but he’s probably the closest person to me. And he has my back as I have his. You shouldn’t take our hate for each other seriously. We prank each other and we can fight a little every now and then, but we’re brothers anyway.’

‘Well, then I’m wrong,’ she shrugged. Bård pressed her a little closer.

‘He-ey… what’s wrong? Why would you hate Vegard so?’

She looked away and tensed a little under his arm.

                ‘Em… I… I have a reason.’

                ‘May I hear it? Maybe I could help anyhow?..’

                It suddenly felt like an important thing. The girl moved her shoulders and he was just about to take his arm away when she moved a little closer to him.

                ‘Well… I think you won’t help me anyhow, but I figured out how to help myself anyway, so I might as well tell you. Vegard looks too much like my brother. And that’s why I just dislike him. I think that they also have really similar personalities.’

                Bård frowned.

                ‘What about your brother?’

                She sighed.

                ‘Well, I will tell you, but promise you won’t tell anyone, okay? I will really feel much better if I reveal my secret to someone who doesn’t know me and probably won’t remember me… so yeah. Do you promise?’

                She glanced up at him and for a moment seemed younger. Bård nodded firmly.

                ‘Sure. I promise. I won’t tell anyone.’

                She nodded to herself.

                ‘So, you know… I have a brother. An elder brother. I live with him, our parents died, and we had to stick together, and he was never too good… but I guess better than nothing. He’s my brother, after all. He looks a lot like Vegard, actually. He’s not quite tall, rather sturdy, with black curls and adorable cheeks… and you know, absolutely innocent! You would think he’s so long-suffering and caring if you saw him just about now! But there’s a problem with him.’

                There was quite a long pause and Bård decided to encourage:

                ‘What is it?’

                She looked to him, squinting.

                ‘He comes to me at night. And touches me. _There_. Everywhere he’s not supposed to touch. I told him a thousand times to stop. But he won’t.’

                Bård’s eyes grew square.

                ‘So he… like… rapes you?!’

                She gave a short laugh.

                ‘Oh no, he’s too clever for that. He doesn’t leave traces. Won’t let himself. He fulfills his need for physical pleasure, but never leaves a trace. He knows what he’ll get if he ever crosses the line he has drawn himself. He's neat as hell. If he's not sure I'm all clean, he takes me with him to the shower. And tells me how he loves me... It’s terrible to live like that. It’s been going for a little bit too long now, for three years, and I don’t want any more.’

                Bård almost choked.

                ‘Three years! Why didn’t you do anything about it?!’

                ‘I tried,’ she said with a little sarcastic smile. ‘But he’s too clever. I addressed the neighbours – he talked them into thinking he’s the best guy in the world. I reported to the police – they didn’t find the evidence. I reported again. They put up cameras in my house – he stopped doing anything for a month or so, and then he just found a way to disconnect all the cameras and continued, more passionately than usual, but, then again, he cared never to leave a trace.’

                ‘But why didn’t you just leave him then?! You’re a grown lady, you could just leave!’

                She glanced to him.

                ‘The bad thing, I can’t. I'm dependent on him financially. He makes sure I am. "Why don't you buy yourself this scarf? It's so pretty! Why don't you treat yourself with these sweets? Don't care they're expensive, I'll help you when you need anything. Don't economize on yourself, I know you have this and this sum put aside!" She mocked his intonation with bitter sarcasm. "The funny thing is, he's never abusive. Never cruel. He's a kind and caring brother! He's a big rich man and a loving benefactor!" She slapped her own hips, freeing herself from Bård's arm. "I'm SO sick of it!"

He wanted to put his arm around her again, but hesitated.

"So... you've been here to report him again?"

She jerked her head proudly.

"Yeah. And I know they won't do anything for me. They never could. But whatever! I bought myself a big kitchen knife instead of a fancy dress. It's in my purse now. In a minute I'll come home, hug him and stab him. His dirty groin, his soft stomach, his pretty face..." A cruel smile crooked her lips.  She looked to him and said in a desperately scary tone: "And if I were you, I'd do the same while I still can. While he's still tame."

Bård was silent, amazed. But Gjertrud shook herself and her smile became friendly again, and a little guilty.

"I'm sorry. This is a terrible story. I spoiled your mood..."

Bård stopped on his way, turned to her and held her in his arms. Just hugged her silently, speechless. She threw her arms around him and for a moment just stood there, before leaning away and glancing up at him gratefully.

“Take care,” she said softly. "I have to go now, and you take care. Remember what I said... and thank you. Tell Calle I said hello."

She tiptoed to kiss his cheek, waved her hand and in a moment was lost in the crowd. Bård followed her with his stare, then glanced around absentmindedly.

He was in a more lively part of town, surprisingly he hadn't noticed it before. There were a couple benches along the pavement. He sank down onto the free one - it took him an effort to bend his legs and not fall - and leaned back feebly. All his thoughts were about Vegard.

" _While he's still tame_ ".

* * *

* * *

 

This little conversation he had hoped to find a relief in only returned him to "he wants to kill you too" and all the madness of the previous day. _Just one day_ , - he thought. _Just one day. It feels like an eternity. Vegard, Vegard! You can't be a beast, I know you and you aren't a cruel tyrant! Or are you?!_

Now the merciless thought of Vegard the killer was especially sharp, pounding in his brain as an open wound. Not once since their childhood had Vegard used his being the older brother to harm Bård anyhow. No, it was always the other way around. He could give him a kick when they were alone, but it was always well-deserved, however Bård refused to admit it back in the day, and what's more, Vegard was the first to stand up for him, and Bård remembered his arms for about as long as he remembered their mom's - for as long as he even remembered anything. And now seemingly everything was trying to convince him Vegard was the beast to kill him...

_No. You aren't. I know you aren't. I know everything that you are, but this is not you! I won't let it get to me, brother..._

He whispered the last phrase aloud, running his fingers through his hair and grasping at it _. I won't let it get to me, brother._ No, he won't.

He remembered the "incest wish" from the questionnaire - it seemed so distant and unreal! - and brushed it off with vexation. How ridiculous it was even to think that Vegard, his gentle Vegard, Vegard that he had learnt by heart, - that Vegard would even _think_ of abusing his little brother! The worst thing he was capable of was peering into the camera when he was talking and slapping him jokingly!

He needed Vegard now. He needed his firm shoulder to lean on. Although he would much rather bury his nose in that shoulder, warm and soft, and tell him how he hates him - first, - and how he loves him - afterwards. He would wrap himself in his living warmth and scent. Vegard always smelt nice. This he remembered better than anything.

He raised his head and glanced around. He was on the verge of crying. He looked at people walking around, focusing on their liveliness, tying himself to the reality.

Suddenly something familiar glimpsed in the crowd. Bård jumped to his feet. He recognized it immediately.

The pair of old dark-blue jeans.

The black warm coat with red accents.

The bushy black curls from under a striped blue beanie.

The walk - he would recognize it in a million.

And bright orange socks.

Vegard was walking down the street his back to Bård, alive and well.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is very messed up and emotional. Pre-to-last. There's an epilogue to go. Don't abandon me. I'm excited.

He rushed through the crowd, his frantic call shattering still white-noisy air:

‘Vegard!’

Nobody turned to his cry. Not even Vegard. He just walked on, a little stooped, his walk kind of clumsy, as usual, but the dearer. He wasn't in a hurry. It took Bård two long jumps to reach him, and he grabbed his hood and his coat and turned him to look at his face. He raised his fist to rush it at somewhere around his eye, but when in a long moment Vegard finished a 180 degree turn and finally faced Bård, Bård realized it wasn't his brother.

No, this man wasn't even quite like Vegard. He was a little shorter and older, and his curls were going grey. His features were square and sharper than Vegard's. Transparent light-blue eyes looked at Bård in calm surprise. But through pungent smell of cigarettes and cologne Bårt still could distinguish - almost intuitively - the scent of detergent, deodorant and *skin*...

Vegard's clothes. But not Vegard was wearing them once again. A second's surprise was just enough for Bård to unclench his fist. He grabbed the man's collar.

‘Where did you get these clothes?!’

‘Erm...’

The man tried rather softly to free himself from Bård's hands, but, unexpectedly outraged, Bård shook him hard, grasping even tighter.

‘Where - _the fuck_ \- did you get - these - clothes?!’

He shouted into his face and the man glanced around nervously.

‘Excuse me...’

But, having let out steam, Bård realized quickly how ridiculous he looked to people around. In the busy street - well, as busy as it got in Granskauen, - he literally jumped onto a man and shouted something weird at him. Now that he had finally got the police to help him and got a real chance of finding Vegard, he didn't need to be taken back there again as a mentally ill. He got the policeman to believe him probably because he was known and always rather stable. He needed to keep it up.

He let go of the man's collar and adjusted it with trembling hands, still unable to contain himself.

‘Oh... oh. I'm... sorry, I really am. But I really need to know where you got these clothes.’

The man examined his tense face with a weird expression and Bård understood that he would now turn and run away.  He grabbed the man's arm desperately.

‘Wait! Don’t go! I'm not mad! I can explain everything, if you only listen!’

Now he was bitter, and the man softened a little at the sight of his despair.

‘Yes, what?’ he asked in a young voice.

‘You don't think I'm mad?’ For some reason it mattered greatly. The man smiled.

‘It depends. Calm down, young man. You were interested in my clothes, right?’

Bård swallowed involuntarily. He was out of words all of a sudden.

‘Yeah, right. I... you see... my brother... I lost him, I mean, he disappeared from our hotel room, and I think something bad happened to him and... he was in these very clothes. I know, I can recognize them. It can't be a coincidence, no way could it be. Tell me, please, I need to know, who gave you these?!’

As he spoke, the man's face gained an empathetic expression. He patted Bård's shoulder.

‘He-ey...’ he said quietly. ‘I'm _so_ sorry! You must be not from around here, if you don't know about me and my hobby.’

Bård's heart sank deep down.

‘What's that hobby?’ he asked in a fallen voice.

‘I buy and wear the dead people's clothes,’ the man said, patting his shoulder a little more. ‘I try on the dead people's lives, trying to be them for a day, to make their lives a bit longer, to keep their memory in me. If I have these clothes, your brother, poor fella, is dead now.’

Bård's head went empty and suddenly all the strength he had dissolved. He didn't know how he didn't fall - his legs stayed straight on pure despair.

‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘No. You're lying. He's not. Vegard is alright.’

The man looked at him with pain.

‘Poor one. You have to know. I get clothes either from the relatives or the police. There can't be a mistake. I remember your brother now, you two were the guys from 'Norges herligste'. I always wanted you to visit me. And now you did... but _how_...’

‘You're lying,’ Bård repeated. ‘You got those from Finn Weber. They wanted me to believe he is dead. He's not, I won't let it get to me. I promised...’

His voice was breaking as he grasped at his hopeless denial.

‘I got those from the police,’ the man said. He looked guilty.

‘You're lying. Why didn't they tell me then?’

‘I don't know.’

‘Did you see the body?’

‘No.’

‘Then you don't know shit!’ Bård shouted, finally breaking down. He grabbed the man's collar and cried into his face: ‘ _You don't know shit!!!_ ’

The man just looked at him silently and softly.

‘You never saw the body! Hear me?! You _never_ saw the body! You’re lying! Everybody around me is lying! You all are lying!’ He was spitting and pointing at everyone, red with furious despair, tears running down his face. ‘You _all are lying to me!_ Your fucking police was lying to me! _Oh how bored they fucking were_ in this motherfucking town!!! No killings! They hoped to have something more serious!!! How about my brother’s fucking death?!’

People started gathering around him, whispering. Bård was still holding the man’s collar, not letting him go, but the man had time to quietly tell the woman asking: ‘Poor one, I just told him I was wearing his dead brother’s clothing’, and now people were exchanging empathetic glances. Something like ‘the one that was found yesterday, remember?’ slipped in the crowd and Bård turned to them as if he was ready to kill them – they trailed off. Some lady tried to take him back and to the bench, but he threw her arms off furiously.

‘Don’t touch me! Nobody will touch me, you dirty liars! You’re all fake! Where’s my brother?! Bring me the fucking body so I can at least say a fucking last goodbye! You fucking bastards, where is he?! Give him to me!’

He choked on his words and fell to the ground. Something broke in his throat and he howled like a beaten dog. Every inch of his being screamed in denial. How many times did they want him to think Vegard was dead? How much pain did they want to bring him?! He wasn’t even crying, he curled up on the cold ground, eyes dry and hurting, just half-groaning half-howling in despair. Everybody around knew Vegard was dead. Everybody knew. And nobody told him.

He heard muffled white noise of the crowd, a melody of a phone call, some gasps, but it all didn’t matter. Vegard, Vegard was gone. But now gone for good.

‘Hey, boy! Young man!’

Someone shook him. He just bit his lower lip. The man in Vegard’s clothes. He didn’t want to see him.

‘Young man, I found something in my pocket, do you think you might be interested?’

‘Leave me alone,’ Bård managed.

‘There’s a note, I think your brother’s name was Vegard? I think it’s from him…’

Bård straightened sharply and ripped the piece of paper out of the man’s hand. It was lined, ripped out of a diary, and had a CRS logo in the top right corner. The date on it was that day’s date, written in a familiar roundishly-careless hand.

_’18:00, Solsikke Park, around the map of the town._

_I’ll meet you. For fuck’s sake don’t bring anyone. Also, important! Get mad all you want, but I love you._

_XO_

_Vegard’_

Something broke inside of him and fell down – and shattered. It was probably his poor heart. His throat wrung so hard it hurt and he felt like all the tears he had ever had were gone forever. Here it was, the last thing from Vegard. His last note. His goodbye to his little brother. He probably didn’t know it was a goodbye. Or maybe he knew. And he bothered to write ‘I love you’. He always bothered to remind him that. He never forgot to throw in that casual ‘I love you’ when only Bård could hear him, and watched him get mad. And what were Bård’s last words to his big brother?

_'Well, you wish. Just sleep already and spare me your blabbering.'_

Yes. This was all that he said to his brother in their last conversation. There was no use justifying himself now, but, after all, he didn't know. He even tucked him up when he was leaving. But it hurt bitterly that, however affectionately, his last words to Vegard were "your blabbering", "sleep already" and "bastard".

Some people helped him rise. Some helped him sit down on a bench. Someone gave him a bottle of water. He took a few sips automatically, still staring at the paper.

Vegard.

His Vegard.

These words were the last traces of his Vegard. Of his own flesh and blood. Of his brother.

" _Get mad all you want, but I love you_ ". " _XO_ ". Hugs and kisses. Where had he got that manner? Pathetically sentimental, but the dearer it was now. Never before Granskauen did he write like that. Maybe he knew from the start? Maybe he was preparing, through notes, virtually giving off his warmth to his little brother?..

This was stupid and melodramatic as hell. Life didn’t work like that. Bård raised his head.

_I'll be in Solsikke Park at six. If he's alive, if only he's alive, I'm never going to let go of him again. I will never say a wrong word to him again. I will... do anything he says. God, I don't think I ever asked. I don't think I ever said a thing to you at all... but please. No. Let him not be dead. Let it all be a cruel lie, I'll forgive everything. Just for the knowledge that he's alive and I am not alone. No, not ‘not alone’ - whole. He's a piece of me, a part and parcel, I don't want to be left crippled, please don't tear him off of me. I'm not going to ever let him go..._

With this ridiculous and desperate notion he rose, slowly went past people and wandered away. They followed him with sympathetic stares.

* * *

* * *

He was wandering the town aimlessly, staring at the asphalt under his feet. His first thought was to go to the police office and demand explanations, but he didn't really have the will or the strength. He went to the hotel, but stopped in front of the door of room 98, trying desperately to find the courage to unlock the door.  He pulled out his phone and dialled the familiar number. From behind the door he heard a muffled sound of Vegard's ringtone. That settled everything. He grasped tighter at the key in his pocket, turned his back to the door and went out. He couldn't bring himself to open the door to the room. He almost knew what he would meet there. He was scared to look face to face at the last place where Vegard was, at the silence that remembered them two. There was Vegard's crumpled bed - he was almost certain it was empty now. There were his clothes, thrown on the floor in a mess. There were his toothbrush and his shaving razor, his bag and even his phone. It was as if he had just left, and would soon come back and grunt about the mess.

Bård ran down the stairs, trying not to look at his bleak reflection in the windows, went out of the hotel and wandered away. His heart was heavy.

He looked at the people around. They had already forgotten about him. They were walking past, talking and laughing at something of their own. They had no memory.

Nothing had memory. Bård was walking down the street like an alien. Sucking void in his chest was dragging him to the ground. Yes, Vegard was a part of him, now he felt it painfully.

Some desperate hope was holding him up. He refused to fully believe Vegard was dead and without coming back. And despite and against the heavy void, he still ridiculously, childishly believed that Vegard would show up at Solsikke park.

He caught his reflection in some little shop's window and stopped for a moment to examine the unfamiliar miserable boy. It struck him how bitter and lonely he suddenly became. Who was that stooped boy, dusty and dirty, worn out and little, oh, so little? He didn't know that boy. Bård Ylvisåker was a witty and smooth ladies' pet, a bastardly prankster, a zany man-child and a suggestive strutter verging on inappropriateness. The boy looking at him from the glass was seemingly shorter, younger, his naked soul looking out of his clear, wet, pungently blue eyes surrounded with deep dark circles.

And what mattered? What was the reason to such a change?

Bård turned away and went past the window, grasping at the key in his pocket. He was empty and hollow.

* * *

* * *

The bench under a bald tree was cold and lonely. Only the wind was walking up and down the empty straight trails of Solsikke Park. Bård ruffled up on that bench listening to the wind, not thinking of anything at all. He'd been sitting here for a couple of hours now, and the seat under him didn't even get warm enough.

He glanced to his phone again. It was almost six. He stood up and headed slowly to the furthest from him corner of the park, where there was a big bright town map. The air was dark blue and freezing. Bård moved through it rather absentmindedly, turning all of his energy to eyes. He was squinting, sure to catch a figure should it appear.

The map was in the middle of a little circular gravel field. A little paved trail led towards it, surrounded with a lawn, which was now rather bald. Bård came up to the gravel field and stopped on the edge of it, looking around. The solid dark silhouettes of pines and crooked arms of the bare leaf trees were drawn over the dark blue skies. Two short gravel trails edged with big sharp stones led off the circular field. They were decorative, but for some reason it crossed Bård’s mind that the children shouldn’t be allowed around those. It was easy to hurt oneself badly on these trails…

He glanced to the phone screen. Two minutes past six. His Vegard was punctual. He looked around, but no one was there. Slowly, painfully slowly the sweet illusions were dissolving in the cold blue air. Vegard wouldn’t come. He wouldn’t meet him at the map. He wouldn’t give him his trademark hamster smile. He wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t try to justify himself, wouldn’t explain anything. Vegard wasn’t there. And he wouldn’t come.

Bård looked around again, examining every dark shape, not even hoping any more. He didn’t even have tears to cry. He thought wearily that he would never be able to cry ever again. He manned up since his childhood, he almost never cried now. His Vegard was more sensitive. He was calmer. Or maybe colder, God knew he regretted it now. But now he lost all his tears. He lost half of him – the best half. He looked up at the sky with dry eyes.

_Well… I think it couldn’t be done, then. I’ll suppose it had to be so – is this what one supposes when this happens?.. Maybe I was too late to address you. I’m not angry at you, and I’m not gonna call you names. I’m also not going to bother you ever again… I promise. I’m sorry. If you’re really there, then at least tell Vegard I’m sorry. Do me this favour. If you’re not there – well, I guess, everything is over anyway… sorry for bothering._

‘Oh, there you are.’

He jerked his head at the familiar voice. From one of the gravel stubs, out of the darkness walked a figure. A man was a little puffed up – Bård could hear him panting – and his walk was a little clumsy. Bård could distinguish his bare head – a great head of curly hair, - and the only thin sweater that didn’t hide his well-built frame.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come, after everything they implied. But you did. This is my boy!’

He was talking affectionately and Bård almost didn’t believe the voice. The man didn’t come any closer.

The street lamp overhead blinked a few times and lit up the roundish face framed with jet-black curls, the guilty smile and the sparkly eyes. Vegard was standing in front of him in person, alive and breathing.

Bård took a hesitant step forward and almost fell onto the sharp gravel. He suddenly got weak in the knees. Vegard looked at him softly and apologetically and motioned towards him, as if wishing to support, but stayed on one spot, as if something was tying him to it.

‘Ve-gard…’ Bård whispered.

‘Yes, it’s me, little brother,’ Vegard said, his smile growing bitter. ‘They did a great job on you, didn’t they?’

‘Wh-who did, Vegard?..’

He whispered it in a broken voice, tasting the name desperately, holding on to every sound of it. His big brother. He was there, and he still could hardly believe it.

‘The CRS. You believed so hard, poor thing! But, after all, you yourself told me you’d be disappointed in me if I didn’t prepare something grandiose…’

The CRS. Suddenly it overwhelmed Bård and he felt so betrayed like he never was before. The ‘weird ass company’. Finn Weber. This fucking city. The multiple implied deaths of his big brother. ‘The subscriber can see you, but won’t answer at the moment’…

                It was all a joke. A cruel joke. Vegard had been laughing at him this entire time. This was too much for him. A minute ago he was a crippled and dirty little boy, he had half of him ripped off, he was shattered, destroyed – and Vegard was laughing his ass off at him somewhere at the comfortable CRS office! Something clicked inside him, switching despair to bright-red fury.

                ‘So… it all was… a _prank?!_ A – motherfucking – PRANK?!’

                He roared and rushed at Vegard, his fists clenched. He forced his entire weight onto his brother, grabbing at his clothes. Vegard gasped and fell down somehow too easily, just about broke in the middle and dropped to the gravel. And then, before Bård could bring his fist down to that beautiful surprised face with traces of a smile in the corners of the lips and eyes, there was a weird and scary _crack_ and Vegard changed in expression. His mouth opened in some new and ugly manner and he gasped brokenly, like a hurt cat. His eyes opened in surprise. For a moment that new face was staring at Bård in a strained agony and then the head fell lightly back, little sharp stones getting into the curls. A little trickle of blood ran out of the corner of Vegard’s mouth. His eyes stayed wide open, staring emptily at the sky.

                Bård didn’t even realize what was going on. The crack was muffled by his own heartbeat, and it surprised him, but not enough to make him aware immediately. He brought his fist down to Vegard’s face, having lost half of the blow’s strength, and Vegard’s head dangled spinelessly to the side. Only then he understood something was wrong. The crack. The crack and this softness. And the fact that Vegard fell to the ground and didn’t move. And the blood from the mouth – the bone must have ripped his throat.

                _The children shouldn’t be let around these gravel stubs. They can hurt themselves badly. Some of the stones are rather big._

                ‘ _Oh God.’_

He grabbed Vegard’s face and turned to himself – ‘Vegard!’ – and immediately realized his mistake. The signs told him the neck was broken.

                A person with a broken neck mustn’t be moved.

                He’d just killed his brother.

                With his own two hands.

                His heart stopped beating. He just froze, straddling his brother – a second ago he was about to plant a huge kiss of relief on his hamster cheek. A second ago his brother was breathing and talking and gasping. A second ago his brother’s lips and eyes kept the never dying smile in the corners. Now his brother was just an unmoving body under him. Breathless. Colourless.

                In some desperate hope he pressed two fingers to the vein on his neck. Whatever, he would love him crippled and paralyzed, he would care for him himself, he would make it the aim of his life to clean these hands of his Vegard’s blood, he would give all the money he owned to make him enjoy his life!

                _Oh please, please, give me one single beat, I’ll do anything!_

There was no pulse. And Bård understood that now it was over. Truly over.

                A scream that left his chest was unearthly. It turned into a howl and broke. Bård grabbed at Vegard’s shoulders, at his ugly dead face with surprise written over it forever, he pressed his forehead to Vegard’s and his tears fell all over his face. He howled like a dog, he didn’t have a single thought in his head, there was just his heart wringing and his throat letting loose. He sobbed loudly, like a child, he covered his brother’s body with his own, nuzzling into his neck, into his shoulders and chest, like an animal, whimpering and gasping and not caring for anything any more.

                Death was not beautiful and sad, like they drew it in movies. It was blood and saliva trickling from his brother’s mouth. It was shame. It was pain.

Some people ran up to them and surrounded them. Finn Weber, officer Larsen, his mate, Gjertrud, the man who bought and wore the dead people’s clothes, the old lady from the CRS office, the man who got killed for warning Bård, the reception girl and many, many more. The entire Granskauen was there.

‘Quick! It’s gone too far!’

‘Where the fuck is Jorgen? He’s got the antidote!’

‘Hurry up, Jorgen!!!’

Finn Weber rushed through the crowd, fell to his knee beside the brothers and pushed a needle into Vegard’s arm. He emptied the syringe and backed off, glancing to the others in worry.

‘When is it supposed to work?’

‘Can take up to a minute.’

‘It better hurry, I don’t want this poor matey to die, okay? The brother, you know.’

‘Because it will all be blamed on you.’

‘To fuck with responsibility. It’s just a good matey.’

Vegard gasped and his chest rose sharply as he inhaled, and it pushed into Bård with all the warmth of Vegard’s being. Vegard breathed eagerly for a moment or so before wrapping his arms around his little brother and pressing him tightly to his chest as he sat down. This was the first thing he knew to do. Bård didn’t even have the energy to acknowledge that motion. He just sank down to whimper into Vegard’s neck, sticking his nose under his sweater, barely understanding what he was doing.

‘Bård… I’m sorry… forgive me, little one…’

Vegard whispered, kissing his hair, stroking him and pressing closer to himself.

‘Please, forgive me!.. They told me it wasn’t going to be anything special, they never told me, my little one, I promise I didn’t want this… in this way…’

He was crying, too. He raised Bård’s face and pressed a kiss to his forehead, and another one, and to his cheeks; he was kissing his face, red and wet and distorted, he was stroking his head, and Bård was just silently trying to get closer, and closer, and even closer. He couldn’t even breathe in enough air to say anything. He tried several times, but just started crying harder and buried his face in Vegard’s shoulder.

‘I won’t die… I won’t ever… I won’t do this to you…’ Vegard whispered desperately, lost and frightened. ‘Please, please don’t cry! I didn’t want it to end like this! I… I didn’t know! I told them to stop, to lead you out of it as quickly as possible! I knew when it has gone too far! Bård, they told me they had to lead you out gradually, and then… this… forgive me! I didn’t know, I must have known, but I didn’t!’

Bård grabbed his face and finally found the strength to look into his desperate eyes.

‘I… love… you,’ he whispered. ‘You… don’t… know…’

‘I know!..’ Vegard brushed his hair out of his face and drew him closer.

‘No… you… don’t… you… doubted… don’t…’

‘I didn’t doubt!’ Vegard cried. ‘I thought it would be funny! Nobody told me it would be like this!’

‘I… just… never leave me, you… hear… me?’

Vegard grabbed him and pressed him to his chest, squeezed him in his arms.

‘Quiet! I won’t ever!’ he whispered hotly in Bård’s ear. ‘I promise. I swear. This will never repeat. You hear me? Never ever! I vow on my balls. I will never… come on, don’t cry, Bård, please! I’ll bring you somewhere warm, and we will drink something hot and I will tell you everything and you will beat me up, all you want, I promise, and you will torture and mock me all you want, and how you want, and I won’t say anything, I actually never even mind it, I just thought it would be funny, I promise, I don’t know, come on, don’t cry, I don’t know what to say, just please, please, please…’

Someone of the people fidgeting quietly around had enough common sense to throw a blanket over Vegard’s shoulders. Vegard wrapped them both in it, making sure he never let go of Bård. _His_ Bård. They were each other’s. They were one once again, and Vegard was sure not to break away. Bård was growing slowly quieter, his cold wet nose again somewhere under Vegard’s collar. Vegard pressed up his lips. He had to contain himself. He kissed Bård just over his ear softly.

‘There,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m here. I promise. And I will be all the time.’

Bård gave a broken sigh, breathing out a warm wave of air into Vegard, and pressed a little closer.


	8. Epilogue

**From: Vegardino**

‘ _Five days ago, 07:03_

_Just woke up, sorry so early, afraid I won’t be able to text. I’m afraid for him. No changes.’_

_‘ Five days ago, 23:14_

_He’s just fallen asleep. No changes. I hope it works out.’_

_‘ Three days ago, 23:45_

_Sorry for the long pause. We’re still alive. He can wake any moment now, take care.’_

_‘ Yesterday, 23:58_

_Pray for me, if you pray, or keep your fingers crossed or whatever. There might be good news to come.’_

_‘ Today, 22:13_

_Skype me whenever you wish. It’s okay now :)’_

* * *

* * *

Magnus stumbled into the dressing room quite puffed up, bending his neck to fit into the doorframe. Calle met his worried stare, looking up from his phone, and shot him a little reassuring smile.

'Hey.'

He rose to meet him. Magnus hugged him quickly and tightly and looked into his face.

'How are they? Did Vegard call?'

Calle nodded.

'Almost.'

'How do you mean almost?'

Calle smiled and tapped his shoulder.

'C'mon,' he said soothingly, 'don't be in a hurry. I've been waiting for you. Everything seems to have worked out.'

'Really?'

Calle sighed.

'Come on, take off your coat and sit down. I'll make us coffee and we will call them together.'

Magnus gave a surprised smile.

'Oh?'

'Vegard sent me a text today,' Calle explained. 'Said I could skype him whenever I wished. He put a smiley at the end of the text.'

He ran his thumb through the messages on his phone and turned it to show Magnus the one he was talking about. Magnus' eyebrows jumped up.

'Now that's good news!'

'Telling you.'

Magnus threw his coat off and to the couch. Calle's electric kettle gurgled for a little while, then turned off and Calle poured the hot water into the cups. Magnus sat down onto the chair. Calle straddled his own, facing him.

'So what exactly happened there?' Magnus asked, putting his elbow onto the  table.

Calle shrugged.

'I don't know. We'll have a chance to ask Vegard.'

'How long has it been going on? A week?'

'Less,' Calle scoffed. 'But it was long...'

He turned on his laptop and moved a cup to Magnus.

'Have this. Rather shitty, but better than nothing.'

'Thanks.'

Calle connected to the Wi-Fi and opened Skype.

* * *

* * *

 

Vegard answered quickly. His face appeared on the screen, smiling softly, framed with messed up coal-black curls.

'Hey guys,' he greeted in a low voice. 'Nice to see you.'

'Hey!' Calle exclaimed cheerfully. 'How are you?'

Vegard brought his finger to his lips.

‘Shh. He’s just fallen asleep. Don’t wake him.’

‘Bård?’

‘Yes.’

Calle nodded.

‘Okay.’

‘So will you tell us now what happened there?’

Calle nodded to Magnus.

‘Yes, will you? Basically, what did you two do? Where did you go and what happened there? You never bothered explaining, just kind of went off and then returned sobbing and hugging for dear life and disappeared again!’

Vegard sighed and his smile was rather embarrassed, but also kind of sad.

‘I guess I’d better start from the very beginning. But first I want to ask whose card it was on our table. The CRS one.’

Calle and Magnus glanced to each other and spots of blush flashed on Magnus’ cheeks.

‘Mine,’ he confessed, glancing away.

Vegard chuckled and ran his hands through his hair.

‘Oh my God! Magnus! Whoever, but I didn’t expect this from you! Calle, okay, or anyone of our guys, but you!!! Where did you even get it?’

Magnus shrugged, looking down with a little stupid smile.

‘From a friend, you know. He’s an idiot and always gives me… stuff you don’t really wanna have, this time I thought I got off cheap… turns out no.’

Vegard hid his chuckle behind his hand.

‘Oh okay,’ he said with a wide smile. ‘At least now I have someone to blame, just to put this heavy, heavy weight off my shoulders.’

He made a face. Calle scoffed.

‘Hey, come on! Better tell us what happened.’

‘That’s in the direct connection with the card,’ Vegard said, his smile fading. ‘I actually got sensitive after the show, because of Bård’s pranks, you know, and I wanted to get to him in return, and I found the card on the table. And thought it was his. And called. And there it started…’

‘Pffffshaw!’ Calle interrupted. ‘I totally get that wish to ground the little shit…’

‘He calls you two the little shit and the bastard when he thinks no one hears,’ Magnus remarked, leaning back in his chair. Calle shot him a glance and tapped his hands on the table.

‘So, I get the wish to ground him, because, after all, it shouldn’t be always him getting away and us…’ he ran his hand through his short hair – the best explanation.

Vegard couldn’t help a smile.

‘I have stuff to show, too. Yeah, he’s a little brat, but what can we do? I still feel guilty, I shouldn’t have even tried, really. I should have asked you guys.’

‘But finally, guilty for what?’ Magnus asked impatiently. ‘What’s that card, I’m curious now?’

‘There was a company, and there they told me that if I was a guy that had everything, I shouldn’t worry and suggested I re-evaluate my life. And I said that I valued it, but there was someone around who might want to re-evaluate something. And we arranged a meeting for the next day, they said I could bring someone with me, but not the person I would like the recreation for, because it was an important point of the Game. Sorry you had to wander around in the cold that day, Calle…’

‘Forgotten,’ Calle brushed it off. ‘What was the meeting about?’

                Vegard licked his lips.

                ‘Well, they questioned me about Bård and told me about the Game that was designed to be like an addition to the real life and slowly replace it for a little while. The aim of The Game was reaching a result that I wished, and for that it was designed, so in my case in the end Bård was supposed to love the hell out of me.’

                Magnus chuckled.

                ‘O-oh, I just imagined this!’

                Calle glanced to him and they burst out laughing. Vegard waited patiently, with a little polite smile. It clearly still felt bad for him to recall.

                Finally Magnus leaned onto the table and looked piercingly at Vegard's face.

                ‘But Calle said you were away really long…’

                ‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Vegard sighed. ‘Right there, at that meeting we together created a scenario draft. I actually loved their style at that time, weird and surreal. They said they would confuse him all around – such a good girl behind the scenarios, there was!’ He chuckled a little, but quickly collected himself. ‘But I actually had a little common sense to ask them to keep it a game, so that he doesn’t get lost for real. I pulled it off as a joke. But we agreed to give the characters names from our songs. The responsible fella even got the Finn Weber one, lucky guy!’

                Calle shook his head.

                ‘So you were having fun while I and Bård were scared out of our shit! You should be ashamed.’

                ‘I am, actually,’ Vegard said without a smile. ‘You don’t know in what measure. You have no idea.’

                Magnus looked at him empathetically.

                ‘Oh come on, don’t listen to him. I don’t think you’re to blame.’

                ‘You haven’t even heard the story to the end,’ Vegard reminded, forcing a little smile to his lips. ‘So, we wrote a draft and they asked when I wanted it. I was curious, sure, and I asked if they could start it right the next day. And they just nodded solemnly and said that it meant two entire days for them to sort everything out for the first time, and assured they had a big team of professionals, so it shouldn’t be a problem. They said they also knew who we were and had agents in the fanbase, so I could expect the best result. They told me, however, that the game might turn out shorter then. I said it was okay and then returned and invited Bård on a trip to a little town. It was invented, of course. I named it Granskauen, you get the joke?’

                Magnus shook his head.

                ‘Well, sure. Grankauen. 'God knows where'.’

Vegard nodded.

‘That's it. They express-designed and printed me out a couple of leaflets. Actually, I have to admit they work perfectly, and very fast, too... So, we went off to that invented town and sort of… started the Game.’

‘Come on, you’re so-o slow!’ Calle was drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. ‘Knock it off. On to the main action!’

Magnus pushed him in the ribs with his elbow, but Calle just scoffed. Vegard nodded.

‘Yes, you’re right. The thing was, they put the cameras everywhere around Granskauen, and they were showing me Bård on the big screen, while I was sitting around the office drinking, eating and relaxing. They only undressed me of sorts, but I knew what for. They bought me another set of clothes, and a nice one, actually. After all, I paid!’ He smiled a little. ‘I was really excited, you know? It was like watching a film. And I felt especially proud knowing that I had taken part in inventing it. I didn’t worry, because Bård seemed actually sure that it was all a revenge prank, which it was. I wrote a couple of notes for different stages of the Game. And they had my clothes, this was enough to make him sure, I thought. Although the Game was about to scare him, I didn’t really think it would be serious. I actually never was a good psychologist, I hope he has forgiven me.’ He sighed. ‘He found out I was gone, I left him a note and an invitation for the Game, and he went straight to the CRS office. There he passed a test for the Game. We all together had invented him weird questions. My special pride is the one about the incest wish. He probably got lost right there already.’

A little smile flashed on Vegard’s face, but he quickly bit it back.

‘Okay, it doesn’t really matter. He got outta there tired, they ensured it. While he was there we put a doll on my bed. It was a really interesting doll. Some artist – she was excellent, I have to say, - sculpted my head and they fixed it on some wax body. The face was just exactly like mine, but not smiling, rather, you know, a little disappointed. So we dressed the doll in my clothes and one of the fellas put my note into the pocket. He told me that this was a really funny body with a secret. When Bård reached for the note, he would press a button and the member would jump up. Frightening, huh?’

Magnus hid his chuckle behind his hand, Calle burst out.

‘It did jump up when he did,’ Vegard justified. This brought another wave of laughter and they could see Vegard turn down the volume. Finally as they got quieter, he said with a guilty look on his face: ‘Come on guys. I’m really ashamed for laughing at it all, just listen.’

Magnus pushed Calle in the ribs with his elbow.

'C'mon, enough of this. I wanna know everything, you won't let me listen to Vegard.'

Calle turned away, hiding his nose, wrinkled with giggles. Magnus cast him a reproachful glance, which he ignored completely, and looked to Vegard.

'So, Bård came and found it?'

Vegard nodded and ran his hand through his hair again, his smile long gone.

'You know, the cameras showed his face as he saw that doll. They put it so that it looked like a body with a broken neck. And I saw Bård's face... he really thought it was me, dead. And... I mean... how he just called for me: "Vegard!"... and how he rushed for me... I mean, the doll. It was... terrifying. He wasn't even angry, like he was when he ran for the CRS. He was frightened. And all the way down the Game since that moment he was frightened.'

Magnus shook his head.

'Ma-an... poor Bård. But I guess you did all you could, right? You didn't really expect that, did you?'

Calle turned on his chair sharply.

'Pshaw! He deserved. His fault he’s such a whine. And he blames _you_ for being one! Let me tell you what, such a girly girl as Bård was never seen!’

But Vegard was looking a little to the left, which meant he was looking at Magnus.

‘I didn’t expect, really,’ he said quietly. ‘This is the only thing I have for justifying myself. I was, like, laughing one moment, and the next I was just at the screen trembling for Bård. I really asked them right then: “Hey guys, isn’t this too much? Is he gonna be okay?’ But they just assured me it was gonna be alright. So I shrugged it off. I sort of regret it now.’

‘On with the story!’ Calle demanded.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Vegard nodded, throwing his hair back and leaning onto the table on the other side. ‘So, they gave Bård the directions through my phone. Sort of, my phone talked to him. And, then again, his questions were ‘where is Vegard’ and ‘ _how is he doing_ ’, you see? So, naturally, Bård ran to the CRS office immediately, and there, on his way, they faked a man’s death after that man told Bård something like ‘don’t go there, he wants to kill you too’. And he simply just didn’t really care! I mean, a man got killed in front of him, and he sort of just ran on and started jumping onto that building… they put up letters in the hall so that he could see them: ‘Did you believe the old fool?’ They were trying to confuse him, and I think by then they succeeded and even overshot the mark. Bård tried to get in, but the back entrance didn’t exist, and he just started trying to break the bulletproof glass, and just bruised himself… he still has some of them, they’re green and awful, really…’

He shuddered. Magnus’ face was all concern now. Calle was watching Vegard’s expression tensely, leaning to the screen a little.

‘So, the fake police officer and the cleaner woke him up and told him how nothing happened in the town, but now he was found and they hoped he had news for them. He actually told them he had things to say, and they brought him to the police office, but before he actually told them anything, he went to the bathroom and there he took his sweater off. That’s when I saw what he had made out of his body, and I sort of broke down. I demanded they stopped the Game, or else he would hurt himself. I insisted. They even got a little lost, I think I got a little mother-wolf there… but I’m really not ashamed. So they told me they had to lead him out of the Game slowly. And I agreed that they did if it was necessary, but I said that it should pass with minimal damage. They assured me that by the end of the day the Game should end and they would give my money back. I said it wasn’t even necessary, because I appreciated the work, but my little one was a little out of it, and it was all because of him. The thing was, the actors were on locations already, and it was rather difficult to let each and every one know. But while we were discussing stuff, apparently, Bård had time to tell the police about everything and meet a girl… the girl is actually a big story, because he was gonna go on with her, if he only managed it a little further. The girl had to meet him like a fan and show that she hated me in a conversation, and when he asked her about it, she would tell him the story about the brother of hers, who looked just like me, and how he sexually abused her for three years and she was gonna kill him…’

Calle raised his eyebrows.

‘Now that’s an interesting turn. So she was, like, meant for him to understand how wonderful you actually are?’

Vegard sighed.

‘It was to be a really good twist, actually, with the brother lookalike, and it had a half-developed plan for the future, and they were working furiously on it. But with my outburst the Game really got out of hand. The Game curator, Jorgen, who played Finn Weber, called someone and told them to quickly improvise a new script, so I was left to watch. But then it turned out that they just threw out a major part of the story and jumped to the end, and this wasn’t what’s called ‘leading out slowly’. They just immediately gave him the guy in my clothes, who told Bård he bought and wore dead people’s things, and gave him all that crowd talking about me being ‘found yesterday’, and all that. The implication was heavy. He just dropped to the ground and started howling, and I jumped up and demanded that they take me to him immediately. Jorgen was mad, he was calling everyone, shouting, and finally managed to calm me down saying that the guy had a note from me in his pocket just in case, and he had given Bård that note, and Bård would probably come there, as far as he can judge. So they brought me to a park where we had to meet, but in the last moment someone of the folks slapped something to the back of my neck and told me not to take it off and not come too close to Bård, because it was necessary for them to hear us well and know when to reveal themselves…’

‘But wait, didn’t they have cameras everywhere?’ Magnus frowned.

Vegard buried his face in his hands.

‘This was what I failed to remember that time. I was really worried for him. But I bet they would have found an excuse, like something with connection, system failure or whatever. So I sorta came out of shadows, and Bård was shocked, naturally. I tried to smile and play it off as a joke, although I knew in the back of my head it was a lame idea. And he just jumped onto me and I fell, and something snapped under my neck, and then I sort of blacked out.’ He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hands, as if it was wet. ‘I really don’t know… I… when Bård fell asleep that night, they showed me a recording and it turned out it was implied that Bård had killed me with his own two hands. Like, I broke my neck and… that’s it. For real, Jorgen told me, the thing on my neck was pushed when I fell and injected me some experimental thing that had a quite Romeo-and-Juliet-y effect. It actually might have not worked and I could simply not black out or stay dead. It had an antidote, though. But Jorgen was mad. Folks responsible for the script decided it’d be funny to watch a melodrama, so they played with us… I guess they’re all fired now, the way things looked…’

‘Or promoted,’ Calle scoffed. ‘Oh man… I was gonna say that you’re a fool for making Bård suffer less, but now I just really wanna hit the responsible folks in the face…’

Magnus nodded. Vegard sighed and looked away, pressing his fist to his mouth.

‘He wouldn’t let me go,’ he said in a hollow voice. ‘I was so scared… I thought that _I_ killed my brother with my own two hands. I thought he’d never recover. Mental illnesses are so much worse than physical…’

He was seemingly fighting back tears. Calle shook his head.

‘He-ey, come on, man. Don’t. It’s okay now, isn’t it? It’s all their fault, not yours. All makes sense to me. Just to distract you now, tell me, what have you been doing this entire time in this hotel?’

Vegard smiled widely and rubbed his eyes.

‘Well, you know… watching TV. Eating a lot – the amounts of tea and sweets brought to our suite are enormous, I’m afraid to even look at the bills… we spent days in bed, talking and cuddling – gosh, so ridiculous! We built blanket fortresses and blanket nests. We drank beer on the balcony. We went to an amusement park. I swear, we were almost holding hands in the street!’

Calle shook his head with a delighted squint.

‘So basically, you were behaving like boyfriends.’

Vegard looked at him jokingly-reproachfully.

‘He’s my little brother.’

Calle laughed.

‘It doesn’t even matter! Damn, I would pay to look at that! More than that, I think _people_ would pay to look at that! You should have recorded that and sold the discs, you’d get the money you spent on this goddamn game back and get twice more over that!’

Magnus looked to him with disgust, but a smile was in the corners of his lips – Vegard knew that one, that was a smile he made when he saw something unbearably cute. He looked at them with a big reproachful smile.

‘You’re idiots,’ he said. ‘Just two perverts.’

‘I’m being told that by a grown-ass man sleeping in one bed with his brother!’ Calle pointed his finger at the screen. ‘Were you even wearing anything?’

Vegard pulled a face, but still couldn’t hold back a smile. It all clearly amused him, and one could tell he really enjoyed the time he spent with Bård.

‘You assholes,’ he said. ‘I’m calling you now that he finally let go of me, and finally he isn’t crying in his sleep because he has nightmares that make him live through a moment when he killed me again and again! I’m calling you now that I hugged that shit out of him, and you make your fucking jokes! Man, I don’t even…’

He was laughing. Magnus was smiling widely now, not even trying to hide his emotion.

‘Show us how he's sleeping,’ he said quietly.

Vegard knitted his eyebrows, still smiling.

‘Get off. You will wake him up. Fuck off now, I don’t wanna…’

‘Vegard?’ a sleepy voice in the background called.

Vegard’s smile fell and he glanced over his shoulder.

‘Coming!’ he called and turned back to Calle and Magnus. ‘What have you done?! He woke up, what shit keeps him awake now?! I shouldn’t have called you, you’re fucking idiots.’

‘And goodnight to you too!’ Calle had time to shout before Vegard closed his laptop with a click and they were left to themselves to chuckle over the cold coffee.

* * *

* * *

                Bård sloshed into the room, barefoot and warmly sleepy. Vegard stood up quickly to meet him, worry written all over his face.

                ‘What’s wrong?’

                Bård smiled widely and crookedly, leaning onto the wall.

                ‘Nuth’n. You were talking to Calle and Magnus. I heard everything.’

                ‘Oh…’

                He noticed Vegard's confusion and smiled even wider. The kind little wrinkles gathered around his eyes. He came up to Vegard and drew him into a hug.

                ‘I wasn’t sleeping, you know,’ he said warmly and a little hoarsely. ‘I was listening to you. I’m just finally feeling good. And I'm glad that you're feeling good, too. C’mon, this is probably the last time in ages we’re sleeping in the same room. Let’s celebrate. Let’s make a pillow fight.’

                ‘You’re a bastard,’ Vegard exhaled into his shoulder. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’

                ‘I know…’

                Bård smiled into his hair.

                ‘You butt…’

                ‘You deserve me.’

                Vegard squeezed him in his arms.

                ‘I do. I guess we both deserve each other, don’t we?’

* * *

* * *

                The last thing to say is that the pillow fight was big and loud. Bård almost choked Vegard with a pillow a couple times, and got hit in the face for that with another, bigger, pillow. And when they were done tickling and hitting each other and dropped back to the bed, happy and exhausted and puffed up, Bård rose on his elbow one last time, leaned over and planted a kiss on Vegard’s cheek.

                ‘Enjoy while you still can. I’m gonna do things to you the next show. I swear.’

                Vegard chuckled and turned to bury his nose into Bård’s chest. They were so comfortable with each other it was like they were kids again.

                ‘This is what I love you for…’

                Bård pressed him to his breast and, suddenly serious, whispered:

                ‘Me too.’

And in this world, it was all they really needed to know.

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
